


A Thorn in the Tiger's Paw

by TheInsaneFox



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathroom Sex, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Club bathrooms are disgusting don't do it, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Riding, Team as Family, coconut oil for lube, just...don't do that please, versatile couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-10-18 22:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/pseuds/TheInsaneFox
Summary: When Yuri falls during practice one day and hurts his knee, he is devastated to find out that he'll need to take the rest of the season off while he heals.  He quickly finds himself falling into a deep depression so Otabek offers to come stay with him for a few weeks.  Yuri is grateful but still feels like something is off, probably because he misses the ice so badly.Or, Otabek and Yuri are actually in love but the other one doesn't know.  So when Otabek comes to visit, Viktor and Yuuri may or may not feel the need to push these two idiots together.





	1. The Fairy Loses His Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I have to be honest, the fic is entirely self-indulgent. I just had knee surgery for an ACL tear and have to skip the competition season for my favorite sport and this is basically me trying to cope with my feelings by projecting them onto my favorite anime boys. There is also a good chance that I'll go back and edit this later because I don't think that I've fully set up that feeling of emptiness and depression that comes when it finally hits you that you're being forced to take a break from your passion.  
> But have some Otayuri angst and fluff that will eventually end happily!
> 
> Rating may go up in future chapters. I'm honestly still trying to decide where I want this to go, so anything can happen between now and whenever this ends.
> 
> Also, feel free to drop me any comments/messages. I promise I'm pretty friendly and have been craving some company while I'm stuck on my couch for the foreseeable future!

     The first time Yuri had stepped onto the ice, he was four years old.  Grandpa had taken him to a rink for public skating hours in Moscow and paid to rent a pair of skates for the hour, thinking it would be a simple and fun way to pass the afternoon.  But as soon as Yuri glided out onto the smooth surface, his little face lit up brighter than the Christmas tree that they had yet to take down in their living over a month past the actual holiday.  Something about the ice was calling to him, and within minutes he was gliding around the rink like he had been doing it for years.  He giggled and waved his arms, yelling “Grandpa, look!” until he finally crashed into the barrier on the side of the rink because he wasn’t watching where he was going.  But rather than cry like most children his age, he shook it off and jumped right back up. 

     The next big mistake had been when Nikolai Plisetsky saw that familiar mischievous look on his grandson’s face when he got an idea that he knew was bad but was going to do it anyway.  The young boy had watched an older skater do a double toe loop and immediately wanted to try it too.  He of course fell flat on his ass but got up again.

     Nikolai sighed as he watched little Yuri giggle, glide, and fall repeatedly until their rented hour was up and they had to go.  That was when Yuri finally cried, because he had to get off the ice and wanted to keep going.  If only Nikolai had known then that he had single-handedly given birth to a passion so strong in his grandson that it would come to define his entire being.  Of course, Yuri insisted on spending every Saturday afternoon at the rink from then on, and it was quickly very apparent that the young boy had a rare gift for the sport of figure skating.  And so Nikolai and his daughter began scraping together every spare ruble they had to send their little prodigy to skating lessons, and ultimately move him to St. Petersburg where he could train under Yakov full time.

     Not a single day went by the Yuri wasn’t eternally grateful for the sacrifices his grandfather and mother had to make to get him to this point, although he would never admit it out loud.  Still, the ice was where he felt most at home, the only time the endless buzzing in his head was quiet while he threw all of his focus and energy into the sport he loved more than life itself.  In a way, it helped him understand what was probably going on in Katsuki’s ever-anxious mind.  The way his blades glided against the ice, the raw power of throwing his body into a quad, or the artistry and finesse that went into each spin—it went beyond simply enjoying himself when he was skating.  Skating was the only time that he felt completely at ease and that absolutely everything around him just made _sense_.

     So the day that he fell after he botched the landing of a quad Salchow, a jump he had perfected at fifteen _damn it_ , all Yuri could do was lie on the ice and let the self-loathing take over as he spewed so many profanities that Viktor even had to raise his eyebrows as he and Yuuri rushed to their friend’s side.  This pain was far and away the worst thing he had ever felt in his short twenty years of life, and that was including the time he had sliced his hand open when he caught his toe pick during a spin and ended up having to get four stitches.

     “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Yuri screamed while clutching his right knee. “It fucking hurts like a bitch!”

     Katsuki tried to make soothing noises to his younger friend in an attempt to keep him calm while Viktor was doing his best to check the knee without getting fileted by one of Yuri’s skates.  Mila was hovering nearby asking if she should call an ambulance, but Viktor shook his head, saying that if they could get Yuri in the car, they could just take him to the hospital themselves.  Whatever he had done to himself was clearly serious, but not life threatening.

     And so many hours later, after being shuffled through triage and sent through a series of tests, Yuri was simultaneously trying to hold back tears and not punch the doctor in the face while he was showing him the results of the MRI they had taken of the injured knee.

     “The good news is that you didn’t break anything.  Bad news is that you definitely tore your ACL and we’ll need to get you into surgery as soon as possible, but we also need to wait for the swelling to go down first.”

            The look Yuri fixed this doctor with was acidic enough to melt stone.

            “How long before I can skate again?”

            The doctor sighed and shook his head at the blonde. “About six months.  Maybe longer depending on how the ligament heals post-op.  Until then you can’t do any kind of jumping, running, spinning, or anything else that could put strain on the ligament and re-tear it.  You’ll of course need physical therapy once the surgery is done.”

            If it were possible for his stomach to fall out of his body and crash through the floor, it would have done so right then.  Six months off meant that the season was over for Yuri, and it was barely the beginning of November.  He hadn’t even had a chance to qualify for the Grand Prix Final yet.  He was so overrun with emotions that he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to scream, cry, or laugh.  Or a combination of all three.  One thing Yuri was not good at was processing emotions, and the wave that had come crashing down on him was not something he was in any way equipped to deal with.

            Once he was discharged and hobbled out into the waiting room on crutches where Viktor and Yuuri were waiting for him, he repeated what the doctor had told him and promptly burst into tears, the fact that he was in public be damned.

            Yuuri of course pulled his friend into a gentle embrace, whispering that everything was going to be okay and that he would get back on the ice before he knew it.  Viktor placed a comforting hand on Yuri’s blonde head and told him that they would help him out in any way they could, starting with he was staying at their place for at least the next few nights while he figured out how to go about his everyday life with only one good leg.

            Tearfully, Yuri nodded and allowed himself to be steered back out to the car.  He had no fucking clue how this was going to work out for him.

 

* * *

 

 

            Being the social media addict he was, Yuri of course took tons of pictures of his leg in its brace, elevated on a pillow with an ice pack on his knee and immediately uploaded them to Snapchat, Twitter, and Facebook.  He followed up with a post on Instagram of the photo, with the hashtags #seasonisover #nogpf #fuckmylife #yesithurtslikehell.

            The notifications began pouring in instantaneously.  The Yuri’s Angels were of course devastated that their Yurachka was not going to be competing for the rest of the season, Chris made a lewd comment about how Yuri had gotten the injury, Mila gave some sappy supportive message, and JJ’s reply was infuriating: “Get better soon, tiny broken human!”

            _At least he didn’t call me Princess like he usually does_ Yuri mentally sighed at that comment before replying with a middle finger emoji.

            Yuri would never admit it but the show of support actually left him feeling just the tiniest bit better about the situation.  He already knew he was going to be hit with a pretty bad wave of depression in the coming weeks, but somehow it was comforting to know that despite his outward asshole personality, people actually did care about him.

            Realizing how late it was, Yuri decided maybe he should finally let himself sleep.  He was settled into the guest bedroom at Viktor and Katsuki’s apartment and surrounded by a mountain of Egyptian cotton and endless pillows on a queen sized bed, because Viktor extra-fucking-Nikiforov had of course chosen the decorations for this room.  He reached over to take one of the painkillers the doctor had prescribed him before he left the hospital and was prepared to pass out for the next twelve or so hours.  Of course this was when his phone started buzzing on the nightstand next to him, and the name that flashed across his phone screen made his heart stop for a minute.

            _Shit, I completely forgot to tell Otabek what happened._

            Hitting the ‘answer’ button, Yuri picked up the phone and awkwardly answered with an already sleep-addled, “Hey Beka--”

            “Yura!” The other man’s voice cut Yuri off and somehow sounded both worried and relieved.  “Are you okay?  JJ said something happened and then I saw the pictures on Instagram and Snapchat…God, I’m so sorry.  What the hell happened?”

            For the second time that day, Yuri was unable to stop the wave of tears that burst forth.  He hated crying, especially in the presence of other people, but Otabek had been his best friend for so long that he just really needed him right now. “Beka—Beka the season is over for me.  I fucked up real bad.  Torn ACL and I’m getting surgery for it next week and I can’t skate for six months.  _Six months, Beka!_   How the fuck am I going to make it six months without skating?”

            At this point, Yuri just broke down into a blubbering mess of sobs and hiccups.  Beka let out a frustrated sigh since he couldn’t do anything for Yuri over the phone other than tell him it would all be okay, this was only temporary and he was going to come back next season stronger than ever.  Katsuki heard the sobbing and poked his head in at one point to check on him, but nodded when Yuri waved him away and pointed to the phone pressed against his ear.

            “Yura, do you want me to come stay with you?  I can talk to my coach, and he’ll probably let me do it given the circumstances.  If you think Viktor would be okay with coaching me I can probably come out for a couple of weeks or so.”

            Yuri nodded before realized Otabek couldn’t see him, so instead he just let out the most pathetic cry of “Fuck yes, come to St. Petersburg.  I could really use a friend right now, Beka.”

            “Of course, Yura.” And with that, they began making plans.  It was weird and felt rushed as Otabek searched for flights while they talked, but in its own way it made Yuri feel better and temporarily forget everything that had happened earlier.  Eventually, he realized that he had finally stopped crying and was laughing at something Otabek had said.

            The loud yawn coming from Otabek made Yuri realize how late it had gotten.  And since Almaty was three hours ahead of St. Petersburg, he felt a slight stab of guilt for keeping his friend up so late.

            “Fuck, I’m sorry!  I forgot about the time difference and didn’t realize how late it is,” Yuri apologized.

            “Don’t worry about it, Yura.  I’m the one that called you.  But I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” God, Yuri swore that soft smile of Otabek’s was _audible_. “Besides, you’ve always been absolute shit at remembering time differences.”

            “Bekaaaaa,” Yuri groaned, but couldn’t help but laugh at that.

            “Goodnight, Yura.  I’ll see you in a few days.”

            “Goodnight, Beka.”

            At least Yuri was able to fall asleep feeling slightly less depressed than he had since he left the hospital.

 

* * *

 

 

            The next morning Yuri woke up in even more pain than he had been in the previous day.  His leg was even more swollen than it was before, and he had somehow contorted his body in the strangest pretzel position overnight thanks to the horrendous leg brace that he was required to wear at all times until the doctor told him otherwise, so his back was just as sore as his injured leg.  He rolled over very carefully and tried to use his arms to hoist his weight out of bed, but ended up falling gracelessly on his ass.  Swearing, he reached for his crutches that he had left leaned against the bedside table, and finally managed to get himself off the mattress and moving.

            Although he had nowhere to be today, his body was not about to let him break his habit of waking up early for morning practice, and he figured he may as well move into the living room so that he could at least watch TV while the gross old couple was at the rink.

            The smell of bacon and eggs greeted Yuri and he felt his stomach grumble loudly, belatedly realizing that he hadn’t eaten anything since before practice yesterday.  So without asking, he hobbled over to where Katuski was getting ready to serve the food and grabbed the spoon from the older man’s hands in order to give himself an extra helping.  Yuuri shrugged and let him do it, although Viktor clucked his tongue as Yuri took his seat and gave him a death glare.

            “Now, now, Yurio, best be careful about your diet.  You won’t be doing much exercise for the coming months and you wouldn’t want to gain weight.”

            The look Yuri shot Viktor could have melted the Polar ice caps.  And so with all the vitriol he could muster, the blonde shoved an entire handful of bacon in his mouth and flipped Viktor off while he deliberately chewed with his mouth open.

            “Very classy,” Viktor laughed as Yuuri handed him his own plate and placed a soft kiss to his temple.

            “Be nice, Viktor.  I’m sure Yuri is upset that his season is over,” Yuuri chastised his husband.

            “’uck u bofth,” Yuri mumbled around his mouthful of pork fat.

            Viktor just cackled and Yuuri’s face turned an alarming shade of purple as he tried to hold back his laughter knowing that it would only infuriate Yuri.

            After a flurry of conversation that involved Yuri insisting that he’ll be fine to fend for himself while the other two were at the rink all day, and oh by the way, Otabek would be coming to visit the day after tomorrow so they have to coach him while he’s in town, Viktor just grinned like a fool and promised that of course he’d coach Otabek if he would keep his favorite son’s spirits up!  Yuri screamed that he was _not_ their son and made sure to throw a fork at Viktor’s head as the married couple left through the front door.

 

* * *

 

 

     Somewhere in the span of two days, Yuri felt as though he had lost all motivation to get up in the morning.  He was still in that strange phase where when he’d first wake up in the morning, his sleep-addled brain convinced him that everything was still normal and that he was about to get up and head to the rink like any other day.  But then the pain and stiffness in his leg would bring him crashing back down to Earth, and he’d have to remind himself that he wouldn’t be seeing the ice for quite some time.  His heart would constrict and he’d roll over in a melodramatic flourish, burying his head in his pillow to muffle his frustrated screams and not wake up Yuuri and Viktor in the other room.  Yuri somehow felt suffocated and anxious all at the same time, and this was merely aggravated by his long bouts of isolation during the day while his temporary roommates had to go about their own lives—the lives he was only recently very much still an active part of.

            Eventually, he’d shuffle his way into the bathroom for a long shower that lasted until the hot water ran out and Yuri was standing with his forehead pressed to the wall while awkwardly balancing all of his weight on his good leg.  Once the water was too cold of him to bear anymore, he dressed and dragged himself into the living room to set up his nest of pillows, blankets, and TV remotes while Katsuki and Viktor fussed and told him to call them if he needed them.  He waved them off like the petulant child he knew he still was deep down, and glared at the TV while they left him for the day to go to his sacred place—the rink.

            And so Yuri spent those two days mostly moping around Viktor and Yuuri’s apartment while the two were at practice, silently resenting them for continuing to skate while he was stuck on the couch watching daytime soap operas that made him gag on their melodrama and awful story lines.  He was obviously someone who was typically very physically active, and so Yuri was shocked to realize that while being laid up with an injury, it wasn’t just the lack of exercise that was driving him insane, but also the fact that he felt useless, bitter, and isolated from his usual world and group of friends.  Grandpa had passed away several years before, as had Makkachin, so unless the gross old couple was around to entertain him, Yuri was otherwise reduced to mind numbing boredom throughout the day.  He felt every bit like the Fairy of Russia’s wings had been plucked from his body and he was left to writhe uselessly on the ground.

            Or maybe it felt more like the lion from that old fable that had gotten a thorn stuck in his paw and had laid trapped until the mouse came to help him. 

            He decided to go with that analogy since, of course, lions were more badass than fairies.  It didn’t matter that he was twenty years old, Yuri still hated being called a fairy and kept referring to himself as the Ice Tiger of Russia everywhere on social media just to get his point across.  Although to be honest, he blamed the Nishigori brats for continuing the trend of calling him the Fairy because for every bit of talent Yuri had at trolling, the triplets were just as skilled in their responses.

            So when someone was knocking hesitantly at the front door, Yuri’s heart just about jumped out of his chest.  He yelled out, “It’s open!” since he still wasn’t very good at moving around the apartment and waited from his spot on the couch as the knob turned and a familiar dark head of hair poked its way through the entrance.

            “Beka!” Yuri cried out while trying to hoist himself up from the couch.  Normally he’d have launched himself at his best friend and tackled him in a flying hug, but that was clearly not happening at this moment.  All he managed to do was awkwardly hop a few feet away from the couch before letting out a sharp gasp of pain and swearing while he clutched at his injured knee.

            Taking pity on his friend, Otabek covered the distance between them in two long strides and wrapped the slightly smaller boy in his arms, murmuring a soft, “Yura.”

            Yuri felt the all-too familiar sting of tears building up again, and simply buried his face in his best friend’s shoulder, sniffling slightly.  He’d made it through the last couple of days without crying or fixating too much on his situation, but now that Otabek was here, he just felt so overwhelmed that the tears were spilling out, no matter how much he tried to hold them back.

            When Otabek’s voice softly whispered, “It’s okay, Yura, you can cry.  I won’t tell anyone,” the dam finally broke and Yuri let the sobs he’d been choking on for days escape in a loud, snotty mess.

            Otabek had lifted the blonde man up at some point, taking care not to jostle his injured leg, and walked them over to the couch in the living room, where Yuri continued to cry into the older man’s shoulder.  For his part, Otabek remained silent, stroking Yuri’s hair and letting him release all of the emotions he had clearly been holding in for a while.  Despite his tough exterior, Otabek knew his best friend felt so much more deeply than anybody else he had ever known, so when he bottled everything up, it inevitably came out like a pipe bursting in an old house.

            By the time Yuri finally stopped crying, Otabek’s hoodie was soaked but he assured Yuri it was nothing to be embarrassed about.  The younger man settled into Otabek’s lap and curled into his chest, trying to focus on the happiness that came with having his best friend with him during an otherwise shitty time.  In the back of his mind, he knew he should be letting Otabek get his bags into the apartment and dragged into his room, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of the comfort that was currently being in Otabek’s lap with his arms wrapped protectively around him.

            “When is your surgery?” Otabek broke the silence when it was clear Yuri had calmed down enough to form coherent sentences.

            “Monday,” Yuri grumbled.

            “Hm,” Otabek hummed in that way that somehow Yuri always knew what he was saying without ever actually saying any real words.  In this case he was saying, “Okay.  That’s just a few days away.  It’s one step closer to recovery and getting back on the ice.”

            Yuri wanted to ask if Otabek would be coming with him to the hospital, but the question died in his throat.  It was still several days away, and given that his best friend had already flown all the way to St. Petersburg from Almaty just to keep him company for a couple of weeks while he healed, he didn’t want to come off as overly clingy.  (Which he realized was ridiculous considering the man had just flown to another country to be with him, but Yuri wasn’t exactly about to try to poke holes in the logic of his anxiety).

            A nudge at his shoulder indicated that Otabek was ready to get up.  Suddenly embarrassed that he had barely even let his friend walk in the door before mauling him, Yuri sheepishly jumped up and mumbled a half-assed apology about how he couldn’t help Otabek drag his luggage in with his bad knee.  Otabek just gave him that soft smile and disappeared to bring his things down the hall to the spare bedroom while Yuri collapsed on the couch in an embarrassed heap.

            “So what do you want to do today, Yura?” Otabek’s voice broke through Yuri’s thoughts as he felt the weight of the other man settling into the other side of the couch, being careful with the blonde’s bad leg and settling it in his lap while Yuri shrugged. 

            Suddenly feeling emotionally drained, Yuri said that he just wanted to watch Netflix since he couldn’t really do much at the moment besides limp between the couch and his bed.  He also had yet to master the art of using crutches, so that in and of itself was a painfully slow process, lest he accidentally fall and injure himself even further.  He may be a professional athlete that could throw his body into the air without a moment’s hesitation, but somehow the concept of using these things to bear all of his weight was not one his brain was willing to wrap itself around.

            And so that was how Viktor and Yuuri found the two younger skaters when they returned home later that evening.  Otabek had passed out about twenty minutes into the movie, mumbling about being jetlagged, but still softly rubbing Yuri’s injured leg.  Yuri had fallen asleep not long after, realizing how exhausted he was after crying more in the last three days than he had in the last three years.

            “Yuuri!  Look at how cute they are together!” Viktor cried, reaching for his husband and shaking him unnecessarily while pointing vehemently at the two young men passed out on their couch. 

            “Yes, Viktor, I see them,” Yuuri sighed before disentangling himself from Viktor and walking over to click the TV off since it had long ago paused on the screen where Netflix had the audacity to ask the viewer if they were still watching after only one or two episodes.

            “We should wake them up and get dinner started,” Viktor mused while Yuuri found a blanket and gently tossed it over their sleeping friends.

            The Japanese man shook his head and motioned that his husband should follow him into the kitchen.  “Let them sleep.  We’ll make dinner and wake them up when it’s ready.”

            Viktor’s mouth took on its trademark heart shape as he gushed over the response.  “I’m so lucky to have married the sweetest man _ever_!”

            Yuuri rolled his eyes and tossed an apron at the Russian’s head. “Start chopping the onions and brown the meat.  I’m going to make Yuri his grandpa’s pirozshki.  Poor guy has had a rough few days so I think some comfort food will do him a world of good.”

            From the living room, Yuri cracked an eye open but didn’t dare move a muscle to let anyone know that he was awake.  Otabek was still sound asleep beside him and while Yuri was aware that maybe he should feel slightly guilty about pretending to still be asleep, he had to admit that it felt kind of nice to have other people fussing over him for once in his life.  It was the closest he had felt to being part of family since he had lost Grandpa several years ago.

            Burrowing further under the blanket, Yuri rolled over and decided to do his damndest to fall asleep again until dinner was ready.


	2. Licking His Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter came out pretty angsty, but I promise it will get better from here! Yuri's got a long way to go, but he's over the worst of it for now.
> 
> I apologize for any formatting issues that happen here, too. I'm not sure why but for some reason AO3 tends to eat my formatting when I copy/paste from word so I have to go back and tweak it as I go.
> 
> Also, come follow me on Tumblr! I haven't posted much there in the last five years, but I'm slowly starting to use it again. Handle is the same as here, so find me at theinsanefox . tumblr . com
> 
> No beta, I apologize for any mistakes, especially since I'm posting this while downing half a bottle of wine.

                Somehow in the days that came after Otabek’s arrival, Yuri had forgotten the minor detail that while his best friend was in St. Petersburg to be with him for the first part of his recovery, Otabek still had to get ready for the Grand Prix Final.  This meant that he would spend almost as much of his day at the rink at the old couple, so Yuri honestly didn’t find himself with much more company than he had before Otabek came out to visit.

                Admittedly, Otabek did his best to come back to the apartment during his lunch breaks and rushed back as soon as practice was over.  Yuri was of course grateful for his best friend flying to another country just to keep him company, but he was getting antsy from lack of mental stimulation.  Most days, Yuri never even bothered to put on proper clothes since he had to wear a horrendous knee brace and none of his regular pants would fit over the damned thing.  So more often than not, Yuri had taken to lounging around the apartment in nothing but his tiger striped boxer briefs and maybe a loose shirt, typically stolen from Viktor’s wardrobe.  Viktor and Yuuri would groan and tell their younger friend to put on some pants, but Otabek remained true to form and never once mentioned the subject or his opinion on the matter.  Yuri simply shrugged that off as the fact that Otabek almost never expressed what he was feeling about anything, much less something as trivial as his best friend parading around the familiar house in his underwear.

                Yuri’s attitude was that he wasn’t going to be seen in public any time soon, so what did it even matter if he got dressed?  Most nights after the little group had eaten dinner, he just switched into a fresh pair of boxers and settled on the couch for more movies and Netflix, Otabek typically situated on the opposite end of the couch with Yuri’s feet propped up on his lap.  It was a routine, but it wasn’t enough to keep Yuri from slowly losing his mind.  He’d been begging Viktor and Otabek to let him tag along to the rink, just to be somewhere else and be near the ice, even though he couldn’t step foot on it.  Just being close by would be enough to set his heart a little at ease, but his wannabe guardians and best friend both denied him, saying it was too much of a risk for him to be in a situation where he could potentially fall and further damage his knee.

                At that point, Yuri had resigned himself to being bored out of his skull until further notice.  At one point, Otabek took him out to dinner to help him get out of the apartment, but Yuri was in so much pain that halfway through dinner he was unable to finish his food and had to beg Otabek to get it to go so they could go home.  Of course Otabek obliged and even carried Yuri on his back the entire way back to Viktor and Yuuri’s apartment.

                By the time the morning of his surgery came around, it was almost a relief to Yuri since it was an actual excuse to leave the apartment, even if he was going to the hospital.  Otabek, Yuuri, Viktor, and Mila all took the morning off to go with him, both for moral support and because he was required to have someone drive him home and stay with him for the first 24 hours after the surgery.   He pretended to be annoyed that they were all there and hovering, barking insults at them while the nurse prodded him and used his distraction as an opportunity to stab the IV into the top of his hand. 

                “Shit!  That hurt!” Yuri snapped at the nurse, who leveled him with a cold glare.

                _Whatever, I can’t be the only person to yell at her for stabbing them with a needle._ Yuri thought to himself, meeting her glare with one of his own.

                “Yura,” Otabek sighed beside him.

                Yuri remained silent for a beat before realizing that Otabek was chastising him for being rude to the woman for doing her job.  He muttered a barely audible apology, but he was fairly certain the nurse either couldn’t hear him or chose to ignore it while she walked out of the waiting area.  Yuri wanted to take a selfie for Snapchat with his IV hooked up and the lovely hospital gown and hairnet that he’d been forced into, but he couldn’t move his hand without a sharp pain thanks to the IV and so quickly gave up on the idea.

                Of course, that just meant Viktor took the opportunity to take a quick photo of Yuri and post it on Instagram before the blonde could even register what his mentor had done.  Once he saw his phone lighting up with notifications, he couldn’t help but let out a low groan.  The Yuri’s Angels were beside themselves with worry, and he was just dreading the comments that would come from all of the other professional skaters seeing him like this.

                “Damn it, old man.  Please tell me you at least put a filter on that because I’m sure I look like absolute hell right now,” Yuri groaned into his hands.

                “Of course, Yurio!  I’m not _that_ mean!” Viktor’s voice was sing-song and excited for reasons unbeknownst to everyone else except maybe Yuuri.

                “You don’t look like hell, Yura,” Otabek offered from his seat beside Yuri’s bed.  The Russian offered his friend a soft smile before going back to scowling at Viktor, who was now blissfully unaware of Yuri’s anger while he scrolled through Twitter on his phone.

                Mila came over and sat on the edge of the bed Yuri was propped up in, bumping his shoulder affectionately.  “How are you holding out?”

                He shrugged in response, not entirely sure how to put into words how he was feeling.  So far he’d kept his anxiety and frustration with the situation mostly to himself, although he was sure Otabek and Katsuki had picked up on a lot of it.  Instead of talking about his problems like a normal, well-adjusted human being would, Yuri just looked away and began fiddling with the line of the IV he was hooked up to.

                “Stop that,” Mila scolded, grabbing Yuri’s hand. “If you pull it out she’ll have to put it back in.  And you were already pissed the first time.”

                “Ugh, shut up!” The blonde groaned. “This situation already sucks, I don’t need you smothering me like a mother hen!”

                There was a pause before Mila said anything. “I’m sorry, Yuri.  I know this sucks.  You’ll get through it though.”  
                “ _But what if I don’t?!_ ” Yuri snapped, loudly enough that everyone else in their little waiting area felt silent and stared at him in surprise.

                He bowed his head and let his curtain of long blonde hair cover his eyes and tried to even out his breathing.  When he finally spoke again, he heard his voice crack embarrassingly.  “What if I’ve permanently fucked up my knee and can never skate again?  What if I can, but my performances are crap and I’ll never be as good as I once was?  It’s only been a week and I’m losing my damn mind without being able to skate, how am I expected to make it through the rest of my life, let alone the next six months?”

                By now Yuri’s breathing was rapid and he was trying desperately to catch his breath, but somehow trying to force himself to breathe normally was only making it worse.  He gripped the blanket around his legs so tight that his knuckles turned white, and he let out such a pained noise that at first nobody was sure if it was his leg that caused it or the panic attack that was clearly settling in.

                Katsuki immediately jumped into action and walked over to his younger friend.  “Hey, Yurio.  I’m going to sit down next to you, okay?”

                Yuri merely nodded and promptly buried his face in his hands.  He could feel Otabek hovering and trying to determine the best way to help but clearly lost and knew it was killing him that he didn’t know how to help.  Mila was looking between the two Yuri’s and decided to step back when Viktor motioned her away. 

                “Just focus on my voice, Yurio.  You’ve seen me when I’m panicking, do you remember the grounding exercises that you’ve walked me through before?” Katsuki was speaking in low, soothing tones.

                The blonde nodded his response again, unable to get enough air in his lungs to form any words, not that he would trust his voice right now.

                “Good,” the Japanese man replied. “Now apply it to yourself.  Start identifying things you can touch, things you can hear, things you can smell…”

                Eventually, Yuuri was able to talk the younger man down.  Viktor had run off to grab a nurse and explain the situation during the whole ordeal, so when she came back to Yuri’s bed, she brought a syringe up to the line in the IV and injected something into it.  Within minutes, Yuri felt his breathing and heart rate slow down, and he was finally able to collapse back onto the thin pillow provided for him.  The nurse explained to his companions that she had given him a sedative, which was common for patients going into surgery.  It would keep him calm until he got into the operating room and was put under.

                When she left and Yuri was clearly calm again, Otabek switched places with Yuuri.  He fidgeted for a second trying to decide what to do now, but Yuri wordlessly reached out to him in the way a young child does when looking to be held.  Otabek immediately folded him into soft embrace, running his fingers through long, blonde hair as Yuri sighed and settled his face into his shoulder.

                The drugs had definitely kicked in because the next words Yuri said were, “Mm, you smell so good, Beka.”

                Otabek let out a soft laugh but could feel the tips of his ears starting to burn red.  “Thanks, Yura.  Are you feeling better now?”

                “Mm hmm,” Yuri hummed, nuzzling his friend’s shoulder and rubbing his cheek against Otabek’s affectionately, just like a cat would. 

                Otabek thought the whole situation would be adorable if they weren’t being awkwardly stared at by Yuuri, Viktor, and Mila from the other side of the bed, and if it wasn’t so clearly drug induced.

                “Plisetsky?” A doctor in blue scrubs called as he opened the privacy curtain in the area.

                “That’s me,” Yuri said, looking up from Otabek’s shoulder.

                “Alright, time for you to head into the OR.  Please follow me,” The doctor grabbed the IV stand to bring with them before offering an arm for Yuri to lean on.

                Reluctantly, Otabek released Yuri from his hold, whispering a soft, “Davai,” in his ear. 

                Yuri beamed for a second and gave him their signature thumbs up before accepting the doctor’s arm and using it to leverage himself up and out of the bed.

                Yuuri and Viktor both came over to give Yuri a hug, wishing him luck and telling him that they would be waiting for him outside to take him home as soon as his surgery was over.  Yuri told the two old men to stop doting on him and that he’d see them in an hour and a half.  He did, however, grab Yuuri in a brief hug and mumbled, “Thanks for before, Katsudon,” before turning to Mila.

                Mila gave him a quick, albeit suffocating, hug and a kiss on the cheek with a promise that if the surgeon screwed this up, she would personally kick his ass.  Yuri didn’t think that there was ever a time that he was more proud to call her one of his friends and returned the hug in full.

               The last thing he remembered was being instructed to lie down on the operating table while the doctor asked him about his skating.  Just as Yuri started to explain, he suddenly was aware of the fuzziness around him and that somebody calling his name.  The person sounded far away and as his eyes fluttered open, he realized that he was in the recovery area.  For a second, the sensation of being in one place one second and then somewhere entirely new the next fucked with his mind a little, but he quickly passed back out as the leftover anesthesia kicked in.  At some point later, he was vaguely aware of Otabek helping him up and into Viktor’s car and he hissed in pain when his leg tried to bend like he normally would while getting into a car, then of Otabek’s soothing voice as he dozed off again.

               Some hours later, Yuri’s eyes finally fluttered open and he was able to take in his surroundings.  His head still felt fuzzy in the way it did when coming out of either a really deep sleep or a hangover, but after a few minutes of blinking rapidly the room around him finally came into focus.

               He was back in the guest bedroom at Viktor and Katsuki’s apartment, although he had no recollection of getting there.  It was dark outside, so he figured it must be the middle of the night, and he therefore was a little annoyed to realize that he had slept the entire day away.  Realizing he was twisted up into an uncomfortable pretzel, he tried to shift his weight into a more comfortable position, but a shooting pain shot up his leg.  When he looked down, he realized that his leg had been wrapped in several layers of bandages and held in place with a brace.  Every little movement caused him to hiss in pain and it took everything in him not to let out a broken sob.

               Beside him, he heard stirring and was shocked when he looked over to see Otabek dozing next to him on the bed.  The apartment was a fairly spacious three bedroom, so Otabek had so far spent his entire stay in the third bedroom.  In the back of his mind, Yuri knew that the only reason Otabek was in here was to make sure nothing happened to him while he was sleeping off the drugs he’d been given in the hospital, but that didn’t stop the flutter in his stomach.

               As if he had sensed Yuri staring at him, Otabek cracked open an eye and looked like he was still trying to figure out where he was for a second.

               “Yura?” he murmured quietly, gauging Yuri’s response. “Are you awake?”

               “Yeah,” Yuri sighed, rolling over to face his best friend while taking extra care to use his core to do all of the turning and not let his leg get wrenched over.

               Otabek let Yuri get settled before asking, “How are you feeling?”

               “Not good.  My leg hurts so fucking much, Beka,” Yuri whined. “Where are my pain meds?”

               The look Otabek gave him was one of regret and sympathy as he reached out and brushed a stray piece of hair back behind Yuri’s ear. “You just took them two hours ago, Yura.  I can’t let you have any more for a few more hours.”

               Yuri finally let out the sob he had been choking back, “Fuck, it hurts!  Bekaaaa!”

               Although Yuri was not crying again, he was definitely breathing harder and clearly trying to force his body to push through the pain.  He hated the look Otabek was giving him, like Yuri was some pathetic puppy that was crying but he couldn’t let him have his way.  He knew Otabek would give him the medicine if he knew it was safe, but _fuck_ nobody had warned him just how much pain this surgery was going to cause.

               Not knowing what to say, Otabek finally just moved closer to Yuri and pulled him into his arms.  He kept murmuring to Yuri to try and sleep, although Yuri just replied with more high pitched whines.  Otabek felt like he was trying to comfort a wounded animal as Yuri buried his head into Otabek’s shoulder.

               “Beka, I really miss Grandpa.  I wish he was here with me right now,” Yuri whispered, although he wasn’t entirely sure Otabek hadn’t fallen back asleep already.

               Then, he heard the reply, “I know Yura.  You have me, Viktor, Yuuri, and Mila though.  Yakov and Lilia too, even if they’re living somewhere else in retirement now.  We’re still your family.”

               Yuri released a breath and nodded, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s waist and forcing himself to finally lie completely still.

               Eventually, Yuri’s breathing evened out and he was able to start drifting off despite the constant pain in his right leg.  He briefly thought in the back of his mind that the way he and Otabek had been behaving lately was not how friends typically acted around each other, but he was too tired to think much of it.  He was just grateful to have his favorite person here in his time of need, giving him both the emotional and physical affection he had never received from anyone as a child other than Grandpa.

 

* * *

 

 

               The next few days were a blur of Yuri drifting in and out of sleep between the pain, boredom, and anesthesia hangover.  He would wake up every few hours and try to eat something, but the prescribed pain medication made him horribly sick so he wasn’t able to keep down anything other than water and crackers.  Yuuri, Viktor, and Otabek all took turns staying home with Yuri so he could have help moving around, getting food, and eventually wrapping his knee in plastic wrap to keep it dry while he showered and changed the dressings.

               The entire time, Yuri whined and bitched about his knee.  It was swollen, stiff, and any time he tried to bend it more than 45 degrees, he’d be hit with a fresh wave of pain that resulted in a string of expletives his companions had long since grown immune to.  And while he appreciated the doting everyone was doing over him, Yuri really, really missed his independence.  Being the incredibly stubborn person he was, the fact that he couldn’t do any basic things for himself was killing him as quickly as the inability to be on the ice.  There were more than a few times he had to keep himself from yelling at everyone to _back the fuck off already_ and let him be for just a couple of hours. 

               And then Otabek’s last day in St. Petersburg came.  Yuri had tried hard not to think about it too much, but he knew Otabek had to go back to Almaty to keep training for the Grand Prix Final.  At this point, the final was only a few weeks away, and Otabek had to get back to seriously training if he wanted to medal, especially with JJ’s programs being as strong as they were this season. 

               After much whining and coercion, Yuri finally convinced everyone that he should be allowed to come back to the rink to watch practice.  He was walking mostly unassisted, and had already had his post-op checkup where the doctor said he was on track to heal properly.  His knee still wasn’t bending very well, but it was a lot better than the days immediately after his surgery.

               So he spent his final afternoon with Otabek in St. Petersburg, watching his best friend work with Viktor and Katsuki on his routine and choreography and incessantly taking pictures for Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat.  The Yuri’s Angels went absolutely nuts from all of the photos, and the Nishigori brats sent teasing comments about how focused he was on Otabek while he couldn’t skate himself. 

               Yuri scowled at the screen.  He may not be able to skate himself, but the all too familiar chill in the air, sound of blades cutting into the ice, and smell of the rink was enough to start putting his nerves a little more at ease after being away for several weeks.  He didn’t think that he’d spent this much time away from the ice since he first started to seriously train as a child.  Besides, if he couldn’t win against that damned JJ this year, then Beka was the next best person to do so.  He wouldn’t dare to be associated with a skater that wasn’t one of the best in the world.

               At some point while he was replying to the triplets, Mila came over and sat down next to him, staying unusually silent for several minutes while watching Otabek throw himself into a triple axel.  Viktor immediately starting pointing out how he needed to fix his position before Otabek’s skates had even hit the ice, so while the two were engaged in that discussion, Mila finally looked at Yuri and broke the silence.

              “So when are you going to tell him you love him?”

               Yuri choked on the water he was drinking and glared at the redhead.

               “Shut up, hag.  He’s just my best friend.”

               Mila shrugged and got up to return to the ice.  Before leaving, she looked pointedly at Yuri and said, “He leaves tomorrow.  Make tonight count.”

               Yuri just stared blankly at her retreating back while Mila made her way over to where Katsuki was waiting to go over her choreography for her free skate.

 

* * *

 

 

               That night, Otabek, Viktor, and Yuuri blessedly helped Yuri move back to his own apartment, now that he was finally back to being able to do most basic household things by himself.  Walking back into his own place, Yuri could instantly feel the tension that he’d been carrying for the past several weeks drain from his shoulders.  It was the first step back towards regaining his independence during the recovery and damn if it didn’t feel great.

               While Otabek dragged the last of his and Yuri’s bags back into the apartment, Yuuri asked Yuri one last time if he needed anything else from them, but the younger man was already none too subtly pushing the other two out the door.  With a promise that they’d be back tomorrow to take Otabek back to the airport, Yuri slammed the door in their faces and collapsed on his own couch, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

               His cat, Potya, jumped up into his lap, grateful to see someone other than Mila or Georgi for the first time since Yuri’s injury.  He was grateful that they’d been taking care of her while he was gone, and he was frankly a little surprised she wasn’t pissed at him for leaving her alone.  Despite that, he started rubbing her ears and she purred contentedly, curling up on his lap and promptly falling asleep.

               Otabek came out of the bedroom and plopped down on the couch next to Yuri, reaching over to give Potya a quick pet.  The two sat there for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the quiet of Yuri’s apartment after the noisiness of Viktor and Yuuri’s place the last two weeks, Potya’s purring the only sound besides the hum of the refrigerator.

               “We should go get dinner.  I don’t have any food here since I haven’t been home in so long,” Yuri said, finally looking over at Otabek.

               Otabek hummed in response, his usual terminology for “sure.”  After some debating (mostly from Otabek because he refused to let Yuri walk more than a few blocks), they settled on a little café down the street.  It was actually fairly similar to the one they had gone to when they first met in Barcelona five years before, so the irony of the situation was not lost on Yuri.

               By the time the two ordered their dinner and the waiter had returned with their drinks (Yuri was finally off the pain meds and so was more than ready to order a glass of wine with his dinner) they had settled into a casual conversation about skating and life in general.  Yuri told Otabek how happy he was that he’d spent the last two weeks with him while he recovered, and Otabek smiled and assured him that he was always happy to be with Yuri.

               “So Beka,” Yuri began while taking a sip of his wine, “What am I supposed to do without you now?  You’re the only reason my recovery has been tolerable so far.  I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with myself when you go back to Almaty tomorrow.”

               Otabek laughed and reached across the table to poke Yuri in the cheek. “I think you’ll survive.  You’ve gotten along without me just fine for most of your life.”

               Yuri pouted, “Not fair.  I can’t skate for a long time still and everyone else is training for the Grand Prix Final.  What the fuck am I going to do with myself?”

               Otabek took a sip of his own wine, looking thoughtful for a few seconds. “Come visit me in Almaty.”

               Tilting his head back to down the last of his wine, Yuri waived the waiter back for a refill before responding. “Are you sure?  I don’t want to distract you from training.”

               “Of course, Yura.  Besides, you can come watch me skate and help me out.  My coach is great and all, but he isn’t a three time World champion and Olympic silver medalist like a certain somebody I know.” 

               Yuri felt himself flush at the compliment but smirked nonetheless. “Well it’s hard to argue with that logic.”

               Otabek laughed at that and they continued to chat away happily until their food arrived.  It was about an hour later that they had finished and paid the bill, so the two began the walk back to Yuri’s apartment.  As they stepped outside into the cold night air, fat snowflakes began to fall and Yuri suddenly had an idea. 

               “Hey Beka, let’s take a selfie in the snow!  We haven’t taken one together the whole time you’ve been here!”

               Otabek nodded his agreement and stepped over next to Yuri to get into the camera frame.  He slung his arm around Yuri’s shoulder and gave the camera his typical stoic stare, while Yuri stuck his tongue out in a way he thought made him look badass.  The picture came out perfect, with the snow falling in a way that made it look like its own filter.  He immediately uploaded the picture to Instagram with the caption, “Beka’s last night in St. Petersburg.  Thank you for being here with me.  I wish you didn’t have to go back to Almaty, but I need you to kick @Jjleroy15! ‘s ass.  I’ll be cheering you on from home, Beka.  Davai! #bestfriend #bff #favoriteperson #thankyou”

               Yuri didn’t think he’d ever had the notifications pop up so quickly.  The Yuri’s Angels and Otababes were absolutely eating it up.  JJ even replied to the picture and said, _Hah!  Best of luck winning against the KING!  I’ll see your hero in a few weeks, Fairy of Russia!_   By the time he got home, he’d turned his phone off to keep from getting annoyed by the constant dinging noise from his phone.

               When they got back to the apartment, they changed into their pajamas and decided to pull up Netflix one last time.  After watching a movie together, Otabek yawned and suggested they should turn in for the night since he had to catch his flight tomorrow morning.  Yuri’s heart sank at that because he didn’t want the night to end, knowing it meant tomorrow he’d be saying goodbye to Otabek again.  It really sucked living in a different country from your best friend, and he said as much out loud while he grumpily went about getting ready for bed.

                He got an affectionate hip check for that comment as Otabek pushed him over from the sink so he could brush his teeth.

                Just as Yuri had settled into bed, _his own bed for the first time in forever_ , he felt the mattress sink as Otabek got in beside him.  Confused, he turned over and groggily asked, “Beka?  The fuck are you doing?”  
                “Going to sleep,” the Kazakh replied, as if nothing about him crawling into Yuri’s bed was strange.  After that first night after his surgery, Otabek had gone back to sleeping in the third room at Viktor and Yuuri’s place.  Yuri had just figured he’d do the same at his place.

                “I have a perfectly comfortable couch,” Yuri sighed.

                “Nope, the bed is more comfortable,” Otabek countered.

                With a note of finality, Otabek rolled over and turned off the bedside lamp. 

                Green eyes blinked owlishly at his friend’s back.  Something in Yuri’s mind told him that he should probably insist on making Otabek move to the couch, but even he wasn’t such an asshole that he’d kick him out for no reason other than he wanted to be selfish and have the whole queen size bed to himself.  Then again, he reasoned, it was only for one night, and Otabek would be back in Kazakhstan tomorrow.  Yuri would have the bed all to himself for endless nights to come.

                _Besides, Beka’s scent is pretty comforting_ , Yuri was embarrassed to catch himself thinking.

                Soon enough, Yuri drifted off into the deepest sleep he’d had since his surgery.  Otabek hadn’t yet fallen asleep, somewhat panicking that he had made too bold of a move by insisting on sharing the bed with Yuri.  But as he began to finally fall asleep, he felt Yuri wrap his slender arms around Otabek from behind, snuggling up to him in his sleep.

                Otabek fell asleep with a content smile on his face.

 

                The next day, Yuri stood in front of security at the airport with Otabek, trying hard not to get too upset over having to say goodbye to him.  Viktor and Yuuri both gave Otabek hugs and thanked him for all the help he’d been during his stay.  He nodded and said he was always happy to help when it came to Yuri.  Viktor smiled and gave him a suspicious wink while he and his husband walked away to give Yuri and Otabek some privacy for their final goodbye.

                For a second, Yuri stood awkwardly in front of his best friend, trying to decide what to do.  They had woken up tangled together that morning and while neither of them had addressed it, he wasn’t so sure things weren’t a little awkward between them.  Otabek didn’t seem too fazed, but then again Otabek rarely expressed much emotion, even around Yuri.

                Yuri finally gave up and threw his arms around Otabek’s neck.  “Thank you, Beka.  For everything.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

                Otabek hugged him back. “You know I’ll always be here for you, Yura.”

                Yuri couldn’t help but grip the back of Otabek’s leather jacket a little tighter, taking in the scent of him one last time. He wanted to burst into tears and beg him to stay in St. Petersburg, but he knew he was just being selfish.  Otabek had his own goals and had to get to the Grand Prix Final for him, so instead Yuri let go to bid him farewell and serious note of “Kick JJ’s ass for me.”

                Otabek chuckled and said he would, along with a promise to start planning a trip for Yuri to come visit him in Almaty as soon as the GPF was over.

                Yuri didn’t think he’d ever felt so empty as when he watched his friend disappear through the security line.  He was aware of Viktor and Katsuki calling to him that it was time to go, but he flipped them off and gave himself a minute to collect himself before heading back towards the parking lot.

                As he settled into the back seat of Viktor’s car, Yuri noticed a new notification on his phone.

                _Otabek-altin liked your photo_.  

                It was the photo from last night.  He even left a comment underneath.

                _I’m always here for you, Yura.  Can’t wait for you to come to Almaty in a couple of months._

                Ignoring Viktor and Katusdon’s concerned questions, Yuri curled up into a ball and glared out the window for the entire ride back to his apartment.  All he could find himself thinking was that something was fundamentally different now between him and Otabek, and he had no idea where to go from here.  He wished his grandpa was still alive because he had absolutely no idea who else to talk to about this.

                All he knew was that he wanted Otabek to come back.


	3. Grand Prix Final and Other Mishaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first of all I want to thank everyone for the support. This is the most response I've ever gotten in any fandom, and everyone is so sweet and I love it!
> 
> Second of all, I'm sorry if this chapter seems like it's veered off a little from the initial story. It will all come back into play in the next few chapters, but for some reason something about this chapter is bugging me and I can't quite figure out why. That being said, I can't keep staring at the word document, so if I figure it out, I'll edit it later. Plus I have a tendency to get distracted from major plot points sometimes, so bear with me while I sort everything out.
> 
> Also, the rating has gone up. Mind the tags because I can't promise it doesn't end here.
> 
> Anyway, kudos, comments, etc. are always appreciated! And again, come follow me on Tumblr if you want! theinsanefox . tumblr . com

            By the time the Grand Prix Final was coming up, Yuri had decided that he’d had enough.  He was tired of sitting around at home and he had come to despise his physical therapy.  Nobody had told him just how much it was going to fucking hurt and had even resorted to calling his physical therapist all kinds of horrendous names whenever she made him bend his knee further than he wanted it to.  Standing still was doing nothing but slowly eating away at him, so a week before Viktor and Yuuri were set to leave for the GPF with one of their junior students, Yuri showed up at their front door and announced that he was coming with them.

            “Ah, Yurio, are you sure?  You just had surgery four weeks ago and your leg—“

            “Shut the fuck up, Katsudon!  I’m going with you to Prague, and that’s final!” Yuri crossed his arms and cocked his hip, acting every bit like a petulant child and not the twenty-year-old adult that he actually was.

            After much deliberation (or really, cursing and snarling on Yuri’s part and rational arguments against the idea from Yuuri and Viktor), it was agreed upon that Yuri would be joining them for the Grand Prix Final as a spectator.

            And that was how, one week later, Yuri found himself sitting on a plane going to the Czech Republic, with Katsudon, Viktor, and their student that was competing in the Junior GPF, a fourteen-year-old girl by the name of Valentina.  Mila was of course competing in the ladies’ singles, but had flown out a few days early to spend some time with Sara before the two had to compete against each other. 

            _Those two need to just fucking get together already_ , Yuri internally groaned at the thought.  For whatever grief Mila loved to give him about his dating life, she sure as hell hardly had her own together.

            “Yuri, is it true that you’re friends with Otabek Altin and JJ Leroy?” Valentina eagerly asked from her seat.

            The blonde sighed, giving the girl a sideways glance.  Viktor and Yuuri had predictably passed out as soon as the plane took off, and this was Valentina’s first Grand Prix Series so she was buzzing with too much excitement to sleep.  She was still a complete fangirl of all of the skaters that would be competing in the Senior Division, and while Yuri was outwardly annoyed with all of her questions, he was secretly proud that he could tell her all about these people.

            “Beka is my best friend.  JJ is an insufferable asshat that I can’t shake from my life, no matter how hard I try.” Yuri hoped the venom in his voice was evident while talking about his least favorite Canadian.

            Valentina’s blue eyes were wide with disbelief at that.  She had been a self-proclaimed JJ’s girl for as long as Yuri had known her, even though JJ was still dragging out that supposed engagement with Isabella.  Five years later and he still hadn’t won that Grand Slam he was aiming for, and still swore that he would not marry her until he had achieved that.  Yuri couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Isabella, but at the same time she was the one that had agreed to marry the idiot.

            “So does that mean you’ll be hanging out with Otabek while we’re in Prague?  Can you introduce me to him?” If her voice got any more excited, Yuri swore she’d explode from how much she was vibrating.  She was starting to remind Yuri of Yuuko when she had first met him and Viktor all those years ago in Hasetsu.  All she was missing were the constant nosebleeds.

            He rolled his eyes so far back at that, Valentina swore that they were going to get stuck in his head.  Yuri had decided that he wanted to surprise Otabek by showing up to support him for the competition, and had made Mila swear that she would track Otabek down as soon as he got to Prague and let Yuri know where to find him.  And after looking up things to do with Otabek while they were in Prague, he had planned to spend as much free time with his best friend as he could, without this annoying gnat following them around like a star struck puppy.

            “I’ll introduce you but then you need to get lost.  He and I have plans.”

            From the smirk on Valentina’s face, Yuri couldn’t help but think Mila had been corrupting this young child with her penchant for drama.  Her look was identical to the one Mila gave him whenever he brought Beka up in conversation, so he already knew what was going through her little red head.

            “You mean you have a date,” she giggled.

            Ugh, Yuri really hated teenagers, and he was within every right to say that now that he was in his twenties.  “No, we do not have a date.  Stop listening to the crap Mila is filling your head with.”

            “Okay.  Whatever you say… _Yurio_.” Valentina was now wearing a total shit-eating grin.

            “Don’t call me that.  Viktor and Yuuri really need to let that damn nickname die already,” Yuri tried to sound threatening, but it just came out more defeated than anything.

            Before Valentina could say anything else, Yuri pulled his headphones out and turned on his music, full of some mixes Beka had sent him recently while he jotted down notes of ideas for his routines next season.  He knew that he was just torturing himself, but ice skating was forever in his blood, whether he was allowed to participate or not.

 

* * *

 

 

            Upon landing several hours later, Yuri turned his phone back off of airplane mode and was immediately bombarded with a series of texts from Mila updating him on Otabek’s whereabouts.  He replied with a _Jesus fucking Christ, hag!  We just landed!  Give us a little bit to get to the hotel_ and began the process of gathering his bags before leaving the plane.

            By the time they reached the hotel, Yuri was more than ready to ditch his             group.  Viktor had already begun waxing all poetic about his days as a Grand Prix Finalist while Yuuri was trying to be the responsible one by checking everyone into their rooms.  A quick scan through the lobby and Yuri saw Mila waving in his general direction, so he trotted over to her before Valentina could follow him and start harassing his friends for autographs.

            “About time you got here!” Mila beamed at him.

            Yuri sneered at Mila and nodded a silent greeting to Sara, whom he had just realized was standing there.  He suddenly wondered if her annoying brother would show up at any moment, given that he had qualified for the final this year, but pushed the shiver of dread aside so he could accomplish his immediate mission of tracking down Otabek for a surprise.

            “Otabek is on his way down here.  I texted him that Sara and I wanted to grab drinks at the hotel bar so just wait here with us.  We’re all dying to see the look on his face when he sees you!” Mila’s face confirmed that she had been letting Valentina spend too much time with her.

            “Get lost and mind your own damn business for once!” Yuri snapped in response.

            “And miss this reunion between Beka and Yurachka?  Never!” Mila crooned, much to Yuri’s utter annoyance.  He wanted to say more to Mila but was quickly cut off.

            “Speaking of,” Sara hissed at the two of them, interrupting their sibling-like banter, “Here he comes.”

            “Yura?” the surprised gasp came from behind Yuri.

            With a rush of breath, Yuri felt the familiar warmth fill his chest at the sound of his best friend’s voice.  With a huge grin, he turned around and jumped on Otabek.  “Surprise, Beka!” he cried as the larger man let out a startled ‘oof’ at the sudden assault.  Mila and Sara ‘ _awwwed’_ at the sight, earning them a middle finger from Yuri behind Otabek’s head.

            Otabek staggered for a second but quickly used his athleticism to grab Yuri around the waist and balance the two of them.  “What are you doing here?  Your knee—“

            “My doctor said it was okay for me to travel and come watch.  So, I came to cheer you on!” Yuri’s excitement was palpable at this point, Otabek clinging to him for dear life as if he couldn’t quite believe this was really happening.

            Before they could talk any further though, a loud voice cut in that felt like nails scratching against Yuri’s skull, instantly killing the entire mood of the reunion.

            “Well, well!  Looks like the little kitten decided to come support his favorite King!”

            Otabek placed Yuri back on the ground and squeezed his waist while whispering, “Don’t do anything stupid,” in his ear before turning to address JJ.

            “Jean,” He greeted the Canadian with a slight nod.

            “Hey, Otabek!  Long time no see!” Yuri couldn’t tell if JJ was purposely ignoring him at this point, but he found himself taking a deep breath and counting to three as he reminded himself that this was JJ and he wasn’t worth losing his cool over.

            “Princess,” JJ winked at Yuri, eliciting a frustrated snarl from the blonde.

            “I swear to God, Leroy, if you don’t stop calling me by those girly names, I’ll—“

            “Yura,” Otabek stepped between the two of them and placed a comforting hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “I know you’re offended, but JJ doesn’t mean anything by it, so calm down.  JJ, stop calling him those names.  You’re just being immature now.”

            For a moment, JJ looking legitimately hurt that Otabek had called him out and jumped to Yuri’s defense, but the look was gone before Yuri could quite notice it.  He looked like he wanted to say something more, but Viktor appeared out of nowhere as he was wont to do, and announced that he had gotten dinner reservations for all of them, plus the rest of the GPF skaters, at a nearby restaurant and they all needed to leave in ten minutes if they wanted to make it in time.  Everyone agreed and dispersed to drop off their luggage and reconvene at the restaurant.  Yuri lamented the change in plans because he had looked up places to go sightseeing with Otabek before dinner.  He grudgingly agreed though since he couldn’t come up with a way to get out of it and not offend everybody else.

            Yuri was pleasantly surprised to find out that the place Viktor picked wasn’t too expensive or over the top, so he somehow suspected that Katsuki might have had something to do with picking the restaurant.  He picked a seat next to Otabek while everyone began trickling in.  JJ, of course, had to kick a chair out and take a seat on the other side of Otabek, winking at Yuri and trying to strike up a conversation with the two of them.  Every time the Canadian said something that Yuri found remotely annoying, he would visibly bristle and try to keep from snarling at the older man in the middle of the restaurant.  On more than one occasion, he felt the smooth leather of Otabek’s fingerless glove brushing his wrist in a silent plea to keep calm.  It worked to bring Yuri off the edge every single time.

            Somewhere in the background, he heard some yelling taking place, and when Yuri looked up he saw that obnoxious brother of Sara’s get in some guy’s face for looking at his sister in a way Michele did not approve of.  Sara was screaming at him to calm down because she was already dating someone, for fuck’s sake (that was news to Yuri.  And by the stupid look on Mila’s face, he sincerely hoped that those two had finally had the conversation they’d been putting off for almost a year now), and Emil was doing his usual best to smooth everything over between the strange twins.

            At the opposite end of the table, Leo and Guang Hong were making gross googly eyes at each other and ignoring everybody else around them, while poor Katsuki looked like he was trying to pry the vodka away from an already drunk looking Viktor.  _Great_ , Yuri thought. _Just what we need is Viktor doing his usual lose his clothes while drunk the night before the short programs start._

            Yuri was beginning to wonder where Valentina had disappeared to when JJ let out a surprised yelp.

            Ah, so she had snuck up behind JJ and was staring at him with that star-struck expression she often got around the older skaters.  Her face was about as red as her hair and she just stood with her blue eyes staring wide at JJ, finally coming face to face with her skating idol and obvious celebrity crush. 

            “Uh, is she okay?” JJ asked, looking at Yuri.  “She’s not blinking.”

            “Valya!” Mila cried across the table. “Don’t be rude!  Introduce yourself or come back over here and sit with me!”

            Yuri looked from Mila to Valentina and back, wondering when the two had spent enough time together that Mila had started calling her by a diminutive.  Something began to click in his mind as he realized that their red hair and blue eyes looked awfully similar, and it was confirmed when Valentina stuck her tongue out at Mila and mumbled something about annoying big sisters.

            Everything suddenly made sense.

            “I should have known you two are related,” Yuri sighed.

            Valentina glared at Yuri before turning back to JJ.  She started to say something but instead started blushing again and buried her face in her hands.  So Yuri grabbed her elbow and yanked her forward before turning to JJ and saying, “This is Valentina, Viktor and Katsudon’s Junior student.  Apparently she’s Mila’s sister and for whatever reason, is one of your fans.  Valentina,” Yuri shoved the girl closer to JJ. “This is JJ, the world’s biggest douchebag and your favorite skater.  Say hello and get it over with.”

            Understanding finally dawned on JJ and he went into total celebrity mode, smiling and talking to the young girl until she was visibly more relaxed.  While the two chatted away, Otabek came over to Yuri and gave him a knowing look.  Yuri arched an eyebrow as if to say, “What?” and Otabek just shrugged but continued to smile at him.

            “Let’s go back to the hotel,” Otabek suggested quietly enough so nobody else could hear them.

            Yuri nodded in agreement, suddenly exhausted wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the large group as possible.  They threw some money down on the table and waved goodbye to Yuuri so he knew that they were leaving, although he seemed rather preoccupied with keeping his inebriated husband from doing a strip tease in the middle of the restaurant.  Yuri grinned knowing how hungover and miserable the old man would be during the short programs.

            Although the walk back to the hotel was short, Yuri was slammed with a pain in his knee that he had been ignoring up until that moment.  He was doing fairly well for being a month past his surgery, but he was still pushing it too far with being out on his feet for long periods of time.  Otabek noticed the twinge in Yuri’s face because he always noticed all the small details of Yuri, and wordlessly crouched down on his knee, indicating that he wanted to give him a piggy back ride.  He was a little embarrassed, but even Yuri wasn’t too proud to admit that he was once again in a not insignificant amount of pain, and so took his best friend up on the offer.  So he wrapped his arms around Otabek’s neck and buried his face in the leather jacket, inhaling the soft sent of leather, soap, and musk that was so uniquely Otabek.

            To Yuri’s surprise, Otabek didn’t even ask him which room he was staying in.  Instead, he brought them back to what Yuri presumed was the Kazakh’s room as he pulled the key card out of his pocket and let them in to the dimly lit room before gently setting Yuri down on the edge of the single king sized bed.

            “Advil?” Otabek asked while tossing a bottle of water Yuri’s way and heading over to where he had dropped his suitcase to dig out a small pill bottle.

            “Yeah, thanks.  My knee is better but it still fucking hurts if I’m on it too long,” Yuri grabbed the water bottle before opening it and taking a large gulp.

            “You shouldn’t push yourself,” Otabek sighed, sitting down at the head of the bed and leaning against the headboard.

            Yuri grunted and took the Advil that Otabek had brought him before settling down in the spot beside Otabek, casually leaning over so that their arms were leaning against each other, all while trying to ignore the flash of embarrassment he felt well up inside him.  “Whatever.  Totally worth it to come watch you skate.”

            “I’d disagree that my skating is worth risking your health, but you never listen to me, so what does it matter?” Otabek finally flopped down against the pillows in a dramatic flourish before pointing at his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie?”

            “Of course,” Yuri rolled his eyes and grabbed the computer before pulling up Netflix on it. 

            In the end, after much bickering, they chose to watch some old horror movie.  Otabek kept making comments about how stupid the plot was and Yuri snapped at him to shut up and watch already.  It only took about twenty minutes though before the two had dozed off on the bed together and the movie played forgotten on the screen.

 

* * *

 

 

            Yuri was woken the next morning to the sound of an alarm buzzing obnoxiously in his ear.  Instinctively, he grabbed for his own phone, but once he realized it was not the source of the noise, his sleep-addled brain began searching desperately for the sound so he could make it _shut the fuck up already_.

            A low grunt startled Yuri enough that he let out a surprised hiss.  He had completely forgotten that he had fallen asleep in Otabek’s hotel room last night, and was honestly amused by the sight of the normally well-organized professional athlete blindly fumbling around the nightstand until he found his phone and kept angrily swatting at the snooze button until the cursed noise stopped.

            “Beka,” Yuri nudged his friend. “Wake up.  You gotta get to practice.”

            “Mmmph,” came the response of Otabek’s face buried into his pillow.  Yuri interpreted that to mean, “Fuck off and let me sleep.”

            A thought suddenly occurred to Yuri. “Wait.  Shit.  If I don’t leave now, someone’s going to see me leaving your room and think something happened last night.  I gotta go!”

            Otabek finally turned towards Yuri, although half of his face remained buried in the pillow, but the look he shot him was almost—hurt?  Yuri wasn’t exactly the best at reading emotions in himself, let alone in other people.

            “So?” Otabek shrugged. “Why does it matter if people think something happened?”

            Yuri’s face turned a shade of red that would have made Grandpa Plisetsky’s borscht proud.  While he knew that _he_ wouldn’t care if people thought he and Otabek were sleeping together, he knew the press would have a field day with it.  Never mind the heartbroken fans over realizing their boys were taken, they could both lose sponsorships, and Yuri said as much.  He also didn’t want people to think that they’d been screwing around the night before the competition started.

            Otabek tried to argue, but Yuri had already gathered his things and said he needed to go back to his room to shower and change anyway.  With a firm promise that he’d be back in time to watch Otabek warm up and give some last minute pointers, Yuri rushed out the door to the elevator, furiously hitting the call button in hopes that it would come faster.

            It didn’t hide the fact that he felt like shit after that conversation.

 

* * *

 

 

            True to his promise, Yuri came to the public practice the morning of the short programs to watch Otabek and help out as best he could, throwing in pointers where Otabek’s coach was obviously failing to help him.  He could hear Viktor lecturing Valentina somewhere in the background about the landing on her double toe loop being sloppy, and somewhere beyond that Mila laughing like a hyena when her little sister wiped out in the middle of running through her routine.

            Otherwise, Yuri hated to admit that the rest of the Grand Prix Final competition was a bit of a blur.  He cheered for Otabek and yelled their customary “Davai!” as he took the ice, took to Twitter to make stabs at JJ when he did some over the top routine, and even made sure to watch the ladies’ singles and junior divisions and was not at all surprised when Valentina got silver in her division, while Mila gold and Sara bronze in theirs.

            But in the best possible scenario, Yuri was overflowing with pride when he saw Otabek step on to the top of the podium to get gold, bumping JJ down to silver, and Emil took bronze.  Although he wasn’t able to compete himself, Yuri had to admit it was the next best thing for Otabek to kick JJ’s ass out of first place.  Otabek, in turn, looked the closest to ecstatic that he’d ever seen.  JJ even threw his arm around him and gave him a hearty congratulations, despite looking severely disappointed in himself, while the media snapped a million photos of them.  Otabek said something in return, which Yuri suspected had something to do with telling him to stop using the Grand Slam as an excuse and just marry poor Isabella already.

            By the time the medalists were allowed to step away from the ice, Yuri tackled Otabek in a hug nearly knocking him off balance while still in his skates.  “Beka, you were amazing!  That’s the best performance I’ve ever seen from you!”

            “Thank you, Yura.  But you should have been on that podium today,” Otabek returned the hug.  They were both aware of the cameras flashing but ignored them and the headlines they knew would be all over the sports pages tomorrow morning.

            “Hey, lovebirds!” JJ of course had to interrupt. “Once we get out of here, Emil said he knows of a great club we can all go celebrate at.  Let’s all go!”

            Yuri wanted to say no on principle, but he tried to remind himself that Otabek was actually friends with this guy.  That, and he knew Otabek secretly loved the club scene, given his side job as a DJ.  Plus, as much of an asshole as he could be, there was no way he was going to let himself be the one to dim that happy glimmer in his best friend’s usually stoic eyes.  So he decided to hell with it and told JJ they’d go with the group.

            After JJ had walked away, Otabek cocked an eyebrow at Yuri, obviously surprised at the response.  Yuri tried to brush it off, saying he hadn’t been out much since his injury and he was dying to go have some fun again.  He knew Otabek was going to argue that going to a club where they’d spend the night dancing, standing, and drinking was not going to be good for Yuri’s still recovering knee, but the younger man gave zero fucks and said as much. 

            Several hours later, Yuri was knocking on the door to Otabek’s hotel room, barely containing his excitement as he bounced up and down a little on his toes.  While digging through his clothes and trying to find something suitable to wear to a club in Prague, he had found the leather pants that he’d worn in his Welcome to the Madness routine five years ago and was shocked that they still fit, despite the fact that he had filled out a lot since then.  He’d coupled the pants with a purple crop top with long and slashed sleeves, some clunky leather combat boots, and even did his makeup with a dark smoky eye look that he typically saved for competitions. 

            When Otabek opened the door wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans and an even tighter black, v neck t-shirt, Yuri was suddenly regretting his decision to wear his extremely tight leather pants, given there was no way he would be able to hide any signs of interest in his friend right then.

            “Wow, Yura,” Otabek was the first to speak. “You look…incredible.”

            “Thanks,” Yuri smirked. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

            Otabek gave his customary “Hmm” in response before grabbing his leather biker jacket and closing the door behind him.

            “Aren’t you going to be cold?” Leave it to Otabek to be practical in this situation. “And what about your knee?  You didn’t wear your brace.”

            “Ugh, Beka, I’ll be fine.  We’re just going to run from the Uber into the club, and I’ll just take lots of breaks between dancing and standing.  Besides, you’re forgetting that I’m Russian.  We don’t feel cold.”

            Otabek pointed out that most clubs are too crowded to find seating, so Yuri just glared at him and said “Shut the fuck up,” while the older man said he didn’t want to listen to Yuri complain later about being cold or in pain.

            They waited in the lobby for their Uber ride to show up, agreeing that the cold December air was not something they wanted to be out in any longer than possible.  The rest of the gang had already left, which was just as well since Yuri didn’t think he’d be able to be in the same car as JJ and not kill him before they even reached the club. 

            Once at the club, Yuri could feel himself practically start buzzing with excitement.  He realized that this was the first time he and Otabek had ever gone to one together, and he couldn’t wait to see how he looked while slightly buzzed and dancing amongst the sweaty bodies and flashing strobe lights.

            They found the other skaters by the bar, Mila waving them over when they walked in.  Everyone looked like they were already several drinks in, with Mila leaning on Sara more than usual, Emil was waving his arms animatedly and yelling something excitedly at Michele, while Leo and Guang Hong were already on the dance floor and sloppily making out. 

            Yuri laughed at the scene while he flagged down the bartender to order a vodka tonic for himself and a beer for Otabek. “Hah, Beka, look at how these losers can’t even hold their liquor.”

            “Careful, Yura, that could just as easily be us,” Otabek smirked and jerked his head towards Guang Hong and Leo.

            Yuri could feel the damn blood rushing to his face at that comment and was very grateful to the dark lighting that was customary in most clubs.

            “The lovebirds made it!” JJ came out of nowhere, flinging an arm around each of their shoulders.

            “For fuck’s sake, Leroy, stop calling us that,” Yuri had to physically stop himself from throwing his drink in the Canadian’s face.  He reasoned that it was not worth the money he’d waste from it.

            “Let go, Jean,” Otabek’s voice was low but commanding. 

            Surprisingly, JJ obliged.  Although his face already bore the tell-tale flush of someone who had been drinking for a while, Otabek ordered him a rum and Coke and handed it to JJ without a single word.  JJ nodded his thanks and leaned back against the bar, trying to strike up a conversation with the other two.  Otabek actually engaged in it and threw friendly jabs at JJ whenever he could.  Yuri wasn’t sure how to feel about this, even though he knew the two of them had once been rinkmates and even friends long before he had ever been in the picture.  He knew the surge of jealousy he was suddenly feeling was ridiculous, but deep down Yuri had always suspected that he wasn’t good enough for Otabek.  Yuri was prickly, moody, and just an overall asshole that very few people were able to tolerate.  Otabek was the most genuinely sweet person he had ever met, and deserved to be in the spotlight with tons of friends.

            Yuri downed his vodka tonic and went straight back to the bar to order a kamikaze shot followed by a whiskey sour.  And once he had finished the whiskey sour, he ordered another one.  He knew he was being stupid and getting hammered was no way to handle his emotions, but it was too late for Yuri to do anything about it.  So by this point he was sufficiently tipsy and when he grabbed a startled Otabek by the arm, he announced, “Let’s dance, Beka!” and didn’t give him much of a choice before dragging Otabek onto the dancefloor and away from JJ, who stood stunned staring at the two after being interrupted in the middle of a sentence.

            Once on the dancefloor, Yuri shamelessly draped his arms over Otabek’s shoulders and began swaying in time to the music.  Otabek, for his part, began to do the same, despite his slightly flustered expression.  He took the whiskey sour from Yuri’s hands and drank the remainder in a single gulp.  The extra alcohol visibly calmed him, and after he set the empty glass down on a nearby table, he began dancing in earnest with Yuri.  The song was something electronic with a deep bass, perfect for the excuse for Yuri to get closer and grind up against Otabek.  He felt, rather than heard, the soft gasp Otabek let out at the sensation of Yuri’s hips rubbing up against his own.  Yuri was not so oblivious to miss the growing hard-on Otabek was sporting, and knew his own erection was obvious in his tight leather pants.  In the background he heard Emil make a comment about the two of them, followed by the sound of giggling women, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the trance the music and alcohol had put him into and the feeling of Otabek’s body moving against his own.

            A waitress walked by and offered them some of those shots they serve in test tubes and Yuri bought two before waving her off.  He handed one to Otabek, who wordlessly took it and swallowed the sweet, pink liquid.  The sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing while he drank the shot had Yuri subconsciously licking his lips before taking his own shot.

            Growing bolder with the liquor, Otabek leaned back in to dance with Yuri again, shoving his knee right between Yuri’s things and eliciting a groan from the blonde.  Yuri shamelessly ground down on Otabek’s knee, to hell with the fact that they were in public and everyone was staring at them.  As the song changed to something quicker paced, their gyrating sped up with the music until they were both sweating and panting, although whether from the heat of the club or their growing arousals, it was hard to say. 

            He leaned into Otabek and whispered in his ear a simple command, “Bathroom.”

            Otabek didn’t need to be told twice.  He grabbed Yuri by the hand and dragged him into the bathroom and into the nearest empty stall.  He’d barely locked the door before Yuri’s lips were on his, his lithe body pressed against Otabek’s more muscular one and forcing the latter’s back into the wall.  Yuri was aware in the back of his mind how unbelievably disgusting the environment was, but threw all caution to the wind as he palmed Otabek’s erection through his jeans.  The older man broke contact from his lips long enough to hiss out a “Fuck, Yura,” before reclaiming his lips in an even more bruising, intense kiss.

            At some point, Otabek flipped them around so that Yuri was the one caged against the wall, held in place by a strong arm on either side of him.  The blonde continued to rub at Otabek’s cock through his jeans, and in turn Otabek bucked against his hand.  Yuri bit Otabek’s lower lip and smirked, growling low enough so nobody else could hear him, “You like it when I touch your dick, Beka?”

            Otabek whined and nipped at Yuri’s neck in response.  Then, without warning, put his hand on the waistband of Yuri’s pants, hovering just long enough for Yuri to catch on that he was waiting for permission to continue.  He had to bite back a laugh that even drunk and brain clouded with lust, Otabek still retained his manners.  He growled “Touch me,” and that was all Otabek needed to hear before plunging his hand into the front of Yuri’s leather pants.

            Of course Yuri had foregone any underwear, as it was impossible to wear leather pants with any.  So when Otabek popped the button and pulled the zipper down, the cold air hit his erect cock and he hissed before feeling a warm hand grab his length.  The feeling was incredible and made Yuri throw his head back against the wall, eyes rolling to the back of his head.  Otabek began to pump his erection in quick, hard thrusts.  Yuri knew he was aiming to get him off quickly, but he squirmed against his hand and tried to reach down in to Otabek’s jeans to return the favor.  Instead, he felt his hand swatted away and Otabek began pumping him faster, whispering in Yuri’s ear, “You’re so beautiful, Yura.”

            All too soon, Yuri felt that familiar heat coiling in his lower abdomen.  He was too drunk to have the capacity to be embarrassed by his lack of stamina, and instead began panting a warning, “Beka I’m—“

            And Otabek shut him up with a quick kiss and whispered, “Come for me,” so softly in Yuri’s ear that it sounded much more affectionate than the situation called far.

            With a stifled cry, Yuri came in Otabek’s hand.  Otabek milked him through his entire orgasm, and when he was finally done, Yuri collapsed against the wall, chest heaving.  He leaned up to kiss Otabek again, this time more sweetly than they had been several minutes before.  He felt the other’s still hard cock poking into his hip, but when he offered again to take care of it for him, Otabek shook his head and instead reached for the toilet paper to clean Yuri up.  Thankfully leather was easy to clean.

            Finally, once Yuri had regained his breath and the two of them had rearranged their clothes, washed their hands, and smoothed their hair, he mentioned that they should probably head back to the bar before everyone started wondering where they were.  Otabek nodded, adjusting himself uncomfortably before the two of them left the bathroom.  As they made their way back through the crowd, Yuri was surprised to feel Otabek place a protective hand on the small of his back as he steered them back towards the group.

            Mila was the first to notice and winked at Yuri, a knowing look on her face.  She thankfully kept her mouth shut for once and turned back to Sara and shamelessly started brushing the other girl’s dark hair back from her face.

            JJ had thankfully wandered off to play a round of pool with Michele and Emil in one of the VIP rooms, so if he had noticed that the two of them were gone, he was too distracted to say anything now.  Guang Hong and Leo had already left, presumably back to one of their hotel rooms to continue where they left off on the dancefloor.                                      

            Yuri could feel himself starting to sober up from the alcohol and his adrenaline rush, and with it came the shooting pains in his knee.  He swore under his breath as his leg gave out, blindly reaching out for something to grab.  Thankfully Otabek stepped in to grab his arm and help him back up.  “We should get you back to the hotel,” he said, wrapping his arm around Yuri’s waist to support him.

            Yuri nodded his agreement and shot Mila a text that his knee was hurting and he couldn’t stay out any longer so he and Beka were heading back to the hotel.  She just responded with a winky face followed by the eggplant emoji.  Yuri sent back a middle finger emoji.

            Uber called and exhaustion setting in, Yuri tried to force down the anxiety of realizing what he had just done with Otabek.  He knew that they needed to talk about it, because for fuck’s sake friends don’t just drunkenly jerk each other off in a club bathroom, but the pain in his knee really was getting overwhelming to the point that he was almost in tears, so he figured that was a problem for another time. 

            As if sensing his distress, Otabek wrapped an arm around Yuri’s shoulder and rubbed comforting circles on his arm while they waited for their ride in the lobby of the club.  Yuri leaned into it gratefully and couldn’t help the content sigh that came out as he felt Otabek run his fingers through his long, blonde locks with the hand not holding him.  He’d been letting it grow out over the years, and the longer it got, the more Otabek had seemed compelled to touch it over the years.  Yuri certainly wasn’t complaining.

            The Uber finally arrived and they climbed into the back of the car, collapsing into the seats.  The clock on the driver’s dashboard read sometime after three AM, so it was no wonder they were so exhausted between the time and the fact that Otabek had just spent the last several days competing.

            Back at the hotel, Otabek stayed with Yuri until they reached his room and unlocked the door.  As he was going in, he noticed Otabek turning to leave, so before he could stop himself he reached out and grabbed the older man’s sleeve.  “Stay with me tonight?” he asked, more hopeful than he dared admit.

            Brown eyes searched his green ones for a few seconds before giving him a look that could only be described as regret. “I’m sorry, Yura.  I don’t think that’s a great idea.  You need to take some Advil and get some rest now.”

            “Oh,” Yuri tried not to let the hurt show in his voice as he dropped his hold on Otabek’s sleeve.

            Otabek grabbed his chin and forced Yuri to look at him. “Hey, don’t be like that.  We’ll talk about it later, okay?  I really do think we need to sleep in our own beds tonight, but I promise that’s not a bad thing.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Yuri’s forehead. “Goodnight, Yura.”

            Yuri fought the familiar sting in the corners of his eyes, but nodded his understanding. “Okay.  Night, Beka.  Call me when you wake up and we can grab breakfast.”

            Otabek inclined his head in agreement and placed one last chaste kiss to Yuri’s lips before turning away and walking back to the elevator.

            Once he was in his room with the door closed, Yuri was too tired to do anything other than dry swallow some Advil before he stripped his clothes off and crawled into the bed completely naked.  He was telling himself how much he should at least brush his teeth and wash his makeup off, but he told that voice in the back of his head to shut up.  Besides, what did he care if he got makeup all over the hotel’s sheets?  It wasn’t his bed.

            He curled up under the covers and finally let the tears he’d been holding back stream out.  He was exhausted and so confused about everything that had happened, and the pain in his knee was only making him more emotional.

            _Beka said this wasn’t a bad thing and that we’ll talk tomorrow_ , he mentally scolded himself. _Get your shit together._

            But none of it mattered.  He had quite possibly fucked up his only real friendship in a moment of drunken weakness, and with that thought dominating his mind, he silently cried himself to sleep.

                                                                    


	4. The More Things Change...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than normal! I had some friends visiting from out of town this week and had to pull a few late nights for work, so this had to take a back burner on the priority list for the time being. Plus this seemed like a natural stopping point.
> 
> Also, I'm so, so, SO grateful for all the wonderful feedback everyone has been giving! I never thought I'd have this much fun writing again, and you all are making it such a great experience! So thank you from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> No beta as per usual. Come follow me on Tumblr!
> 
> theinsanefox . tumblr . com

            The sun was beating relentlessly into his hotel room and drilling holes into Yuri’s painfully hungover skull.  He was pissed to realize that his drunken self had forgotten to close the curtains last night after he got back from the club.  With a pathetic whimper, he tried to roll over and bury his head in the pillows, but the stench of stale beer, vodka, cigarettes, and sex from the club last night hit him so strongly that he forced himself to get up and make his way over to the shower. 

            Once he turned the water on, he turned off all but one light in the bathroom and sat down under the hot stream, leaning his head against the wall and silently praying for death.  His mascara from the night before ran down his skin in dark rivulets, and he couldn’t help but feel like it was some kind of comment on the note the night had ended on between himself and Otabek.

            Instantly, his mind began flashing back to those moments from the previous night between them.  The taste of Otabek on his lips, his warm hand pumping his cock, the smell of the alcohol on his breath.

            Yuri instantly flashed hot with arousal and at the same time felt a fresh wave of self-loathing and disgust with himself for thinking these things about his best friend.  Especially since that friend had rejected him when he was at his most vulnerable and asked Otabek to come back into the room with him.

            The water began to feel cold after a while of this, so he forced himself to stand and find a washcloth so that he could scrub himself as quickly as possible.  He debated ignoring his now painful erection, but decided that it was best to take care of that before he had to go out in public.  He refused to think about Otabek while he did so, and kept forcing himself to imagine various actors and singers he liked instead.

            By the time he stumbled back into the room, he had a towel draped around his neck and the steam from the bathroom was leaking out in smoky tendrils.  He stood naked in front of his suitcase for about five minutes, debating whether he wanted to get dressed and if he did, which outfit he should wear, but the sound of his phone vibrating forced him to walk back to the bed and save it from its fluffy grave under the covers.

            The text was from Otabek, because nobody else would be brave enough to dare disturb Yuri so early the morning after he’d been drinking.  It was a simple request to meet for breakfast at the coffee shop across the street from the hotel, and Yuri’s stomach sank when he remembered that they’d promised to talk this morning.  Every instinct in his body was screaming that Otabek wanted to tell him that their friendship was over, that Yuri had successfully made it super weird and awkward by making out with him and allowing Otabek to jerk him off in the bathroom at a club.  He was convinced that he was about to lose his best friend, and that small voice in the back of his head telling him that he was being completely stupid was silenced and killed almost immediately.

            Gathering his courage, Yuri responded that he’d be there in twenty minutes.  Otabek replied with a thumbs up emoji, and that was undeniably an extra stab to the gut.  Finally returning to his suitcase, Yuri pulled out his best pair of black skinny jeans and his favorite emerald green cashmere sweater.  If he was about to have his heart smashed to pieces, then damn he was going to look fantastic in the process.

 

* * *

 

 

            Otabek was already waiting at a table when Yuri arrived, and waved him over to the open seat across from him.  Yuri was equal parts horrified and flustered that Otabek knew his favorite coffee order and already had it waiting for him when he sat down.  Part of him wanted to be petty and tell the other man that he actually wanted something different for once, but they were in public and the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene.

            “Morning,” Otabek smiled softly, somehow managing to set Yuri’s nerves slightly at ease while he held out the to-go cup of Yuri’s favorite hazelnut latte.

            “Hey,” Yuri replied, grabbing the offered drink and immediately taking a big gulp of it to distract himself.

            “How are you feeling?” Otabek asked, clearly beating around the bush.

            Yuri shrugged as he sat down and began fiddling with the cardboard sleeve on the cup that was meant to protect his hands from the heat of the beverage.  “Been better.”

            Otabek did his typical non-committal “Hmm,” and stared pointedly at the wall to Yuri’s right.  Yuri thought maybe he was missing something and looked in the same direction as his companion, but when he realized nothing was there, he knew Otabek was trying to sort through his thoughts before he continued the conversation.  Another subtle detail about each other that Yuri was going to miss the intimacy of when Otabek inevitably brought this conversation to its prolonged end.  Yuri was starting to get the itch to just do it already, like putting a lame cow out of its misery rather than forcing it to keep walking for miles with the herd on a broken leg—another analogy he found himself trying not to laugh at the irony of given his current situation.

            “Yura, about last night…” Otabek’s voice broke through Yuri’s thoughts, and he immediately braced himself for the fall that was about to happen.  He even felt himself subconsciously gripping his coffee cup so tight that it was a miracle it didn’t crumple in his hand and send espresso and frothed milk everywhere.

            Otabek took a deep breath and said the last words Yuri ever expected to hear, “I don’t want you to think that I refused to come into your room because I’m not interested.  That’s not the case.  It’s the farthest thing from it.”

            Yuri nearly choked on his coffee as he was taking another sip.  His green eyes shot open and he stared, completely bewildered, at Otabek. 

For his part, the Kazakh didn’t notice and surged forward with the conversation.  “I can’t even pretend to ignore it anymore.  Yura, I love you, and probably have since we first met when we were kids at that training camp. And as for last night, please know how badly I wanted to go back inside with you.  But you were drunk and in a bad place emotionally, so I wasn’t about to let you do anything you’d regret.  Saying no was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

            Completely shocked, Yuri just stared at Otabek, mouth opening and closing uselessly like the many koi in one of the ponds at Yu-Topia that Mari would have him feed every morning while he spent his summers with the Katsuki’s.  This was the farthest thing from how he had expected this conversation to go, and he was at a complete loss for words.  He finally went to speak, but Otabek had to add one more statement.

            “Beka, I—“ Yuri swore his brain had shut down.  He kept thinking of ways to start his sentences, but not how to finish them.  It was a strange sensation and he really wasn’t sure how to handle it.

            Finally, Yuri forced himself to take a deep breath and gather his thoughts.  Otabek never once pushed him to say anything, simply sat there and gave him an understanding look as he watched Yuri struggle to put what he was thinking into intelligible words.  It was one of Yuri’s favorite things about Otabek—how he understood him on practically a molecular level and never pushed Yuri to express anything he wasn’t comfortable with.  And how knew that Yuri’s mood swings were the result of how deeply he felt things and needed to work on processing these emotions, but it typically manifested itself in frustrated anger.

            So when Yuri finally spoke, slowly and truthfully, he knew Otabek would meet him halfway and hear him out.  “Beka, I honestly don’t really know what to say.  My feelings for you definitely go beyond just friendship, but I’m also not entirely sure if I’m ready to make that leap from friendship to more than that just yet.”

            Otabek nodded and gave Yuri one of his rare smiles.  If he was hurt or disappointed, he hid it well. “Yura, take all the time you need.  Whether you decide you want to stay friends or if you want to be more than that, I will support your decision and continue to be by your side.  Above all else, you are the most important person in my life and the last thing I would ever want would be to make you uncomfortable or lose you altogether.”

            Yuri was so shocked at those words that he once again felt tears welling in the corners of his eyes, but this time it was for the right reasons.  He was so convinced that Otabek had been preparing to tell him that they couldn’t be friends anymore, and instead he’d gotten the deepest confession of love that Otabek Altin could ever give.

            And even better was that he was willing to wait for Yuri to figure everything out on his own.  No pressure and no threats of leaving him.  Just pure love and support.

            At that point, Yuri’s phone beeped and reminded him that he needed to leave to catch his flight back home.  He apologized to Otabek for needing to take off so suddenly, but Otabek insisted it wasn’t a problem.  Yuri swiped at his stubborn tears with the back of his hand and promised that they would start planning his trip to Almaty in earnest once he was back in St. Petersburg.  Otabek said he was looking forward to it.  They parted ways after Otabek pushed a piece of long blonde hair behind Yuri’s ear and placed a gentle kiss to Yuri’s forehead before he wished him safe travels.  Yuri returned the sentiment and left Otabek with a soft kiss on the cheek and tight hug before taking off to meet Viktor, Yuri, Valentina, and Mila at the airport.

 

* * *

 

 

            Yuri found his friends already at their gate, waiting impatiently for him since he’d cut it close to the flight time after grabbing that coffee with Otabek.  Katuski’s eyes shot open when he saw Yuri and grabbed a pacing Viktor by the wrist to get his attention.  They exchanged one off their famous looks and were about to make their way over to Yuri when a flash of red hair came out of nowhere and Valentina practically tackled him to the ground in a suffocating hug.

            “Yuriiiiii!” She cried, “You never told me about you and Otabek!  What the hell?”

            “Oof!” Yuri snapped. “Get off me, you little gremlin.  And what are you even talking about?  I told you he’s my best friend.”

            Valentina shot him a confused look but let go of him.  Before she could say anything, Mila grabbed her by the arm and announced that she needed her sister’s help picking out a cute souvenir for their parents in the gift shop.  Valentina tried to argue but Mila pushed her in the direction of the store before she could protest any further.  With a single look and a pronouncement of, “We’ll talk later,” to Yuri, she followed her younger sister in the store.

            Thoroughly confused by everything that had just taken place, Yuri made his way over to where Viktor and Yuuri were sitting already.  Settling down into the uncomfortable airport seats, he was surprised to find the two staring at him awkwardly. 

            “What?” He asked, hands immediately jumping to his hair and his face, convinced there was something stuck to him.

            “Are you okay, Yuri?” Katsuki asked cautiously, as if he were about to poke a sleeping bear.

            Yuri blinked, brain buzzing with a million questions about what could possibly be going on with everybody. “Yes?  Why wouldn’t I be?”

            Viktor’s famous blue eyes shot wide open, as if he just realized something. “Yuuri, dear, he doesn’t know.”

            Now Yuri was getting anxious as well as confused. “Know what, old man?”

            Katuski softly suggested that Yuri should check his phone.  Nervously, he fished it out of his pocket only to find out that he had forgotten to charge it last night and it had therefore died sometime while he was at the coffee shop with Otabek.  He told his two friends as much, and Viktor handed him an extra phone charger.  Yuri plugged it in and sat there anxiously staring at his phone while he waited for it to power up.  He could tell something was very off, and given that both Katuski and Viktor refused to look him in the eye or tell him what was going on, his anxiety was at an all-time high.

            Finally, after what felt like forever and Yuri nervously clicking at the screen with his nails, his phone booted up.  Once he punched in his passcode and pulled up the home screen, the notifications began pouring in.  And as soon as he realized what was happening, he felt all of the air go out of his lungs.

            On the front page of a popular skating website, were blurry but unmistakable pictures of Yuri and Otabek from the club last night.  The pictures were of them as they danced provocatively together, a couple of them after they had left the bathroom with mussed hair and bruised lips, and a final one of them leaving the club with Otabek’s protective hand on his waist.  The article itself was pure garbage, nothing but speculation and gossip about the possibility that the two were together.

            Yuri felt as if the floor had dropped out from under him.  The Yuri’s Angels were going nuts.  The comments were all a mixture of support and homophobic slurs about the two of them.  All of the other skaters, even fucking JJ, were texting and calling him to see if he was okay.  He didn’t know what to do.  He felt the blood drain out of his face as the realization of the impact this had on him began to hit.

            Yuuri came over and calmly took the phone out of Yuri’s hand.  He tried to tell him that this would all pass, and that if he just laid low for a while, the media would forget it ever happened.  Like a bad rumor in high school, the best thing to do was to ignore its existence.

            “Tch, you forget none of us had a normal childhood, Katsudon.  We didn’t go to school with other kids.  We never learned to socialize properly.  We were home schooled so we could become Olympic athletes, for fuck’s sake!” Yuri was trying to keep his breathing even as he shouted at the well-meaning Yuuri.

            “Yurio, I’m telling you from experience how best to handle these situations,” Yuuri fixed him with an even look, and Yuri immediately felt guilty as he remembered some of the hell Katuski and Viktor had gone through when their relationship had gone public.

            His phone started buzzing and he saw Otabek’s name flash across the screen as he tried to call him.  He immediately hit the ‘answer’ button without thinking twice about it.

            “Beka—“ he began, but Otabek cut him off.

            “Crap, Yura, I’m so sorry about all of this.  I wasn’t thinking.”

            “Why are you sorry?” Yuri was surprised by what Otabek had said. “You didn’t share those photos.  Besides, the article wasn’t exactly off the mark on this.”

            He could practically _hear_ Viktor smirk at that comment.

            Yuri could hear an announcement in the background somewhere on Otabek’s end. “Shit, sorry.  I gotta go.  My flight is boarding.  Skype me when you get home?  We should talk about this and my coach will probably recommend doing some damage control with the media.”

            “Yeah, I will.  Have a safe flight, Beka.” Yuri said.

            “You too, Yura.  Talk to you later,” Otabek replied before hanging up.

            Stunned, Yuri let the phone go black as he stared at it, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do with himself.  Katuski and Viktor were smart enough to leave him alone while he processed all of this information until the gate attendant announced that their flight was about to start boarding.  Numbly, Yuri went through the whole routine he was all too familiar with after a lifetime of international travelling. 

            By the time he had taken his seat on the plane, he thought maybe his breathing was almost back to normal.  Mila had seen how distressed he was and immediately bullied the man sitting next to him to switch seats with her so that they could talk on the flight.

            “Hey,” she said softly, bumping him affectionately with her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

            “Honestly?  I have no idea.” Yuri let out a nervous laugh.

            Mila nodded her understanding and put her arm around his shoulders in that sisterly way she had a tendency to do with him.  She didn’t try to fill the silence by reassuring Yuri or telling him everything would work out.  Just sat there and gave him her silent support.  It was probably what Yuri loved most about her, although he would never admit it out loud.

            “Beka and I talked this morning,” he finally said, realizing that he needed to talk about what happened with someone outside of the whole situation.

            “And?”

            “And he told me he loves me.  The article wasn’t wrong about something happening last night—“

            Mila laughed at that. “Well that’s obvious.  You two are about as subtle as a brick in the small of my back.  You didn’t even bother to cover up that massive hickey on your neck.”

            Yuri subconsciously slapped a hand to his neck, eyes widening.  He pulled his phone out and switched the camera to selfie mode to check his neck and—yup.  Mila wasn’t lying.  There was a giant, purple hickey on his neck that he hadn’t noticed while he was busy wallowing in his hangover and self-pity that morning.

            “Shit!” he swore. Then, “Hey, did you just quote Brand New at me?”

            Mila winked. “Maybe.  But seriously Yurachka, Otabek told you he loves you.  What did you say?”

            Yuri sighed, realizing that he wasn’t about to get out of this conversation. “I told him that I care about him beyond friendship, but that I need some time to think.  He told me to take all the time in the world.”

            Mila smiled affectionately at him. “I knew Otabek was a great guy!”

            “I’m so confused about everything now though!” Yuri cried, burying his face in his hands. “What do I do?”

            “Does the world knowing about you two change the feelings you have for each other?”

            Yuri realized what she was getting at. “No, not at all.”

            The smile Mila gave him just grew and she ruffled his hair at that. “Then I think you already have your answer.”

            Yuri elbowed her but otherwise didn’t try to fight her beyond smoothing his hair back out. “Oi, so what about you and Sara?  You two finally together?”

            The conversation finally changed over into literally anything else other than Yuri, the news, and his feelings for Otabek, and for that he was eternally grateful.  By the end of the flight, he had almost forgotten about his problems and was laughing again.  Almost.

 

* * *

 

 

            Later that evening, Yuri was sprawled out on his bed, laptop balanced on his chest and Potya curled up beside him.  He absent-mindedly stroked at his cat’s fur while she purred contently under his hand, all the while he zoned out while watching YouTube videos and waiting for Otabek to call him.  He had at least been able to change into a pair of black leggings and an oversized t-shirt that he may or may not have stolen from Otabek while he had been visiting.  The sleeve kept slipping off his shoulder and he was waiting to see if Otabek would notice on the Skype call that Yuri was wearing it.

            When the Skype tone starting ringing on his computer, he immediately sat up, throwing Potya off his arm and making her hiss at him.  He tried to apologize but she jumped off the bed and ran into the other room, tail held indignantly high as she left.  “Damn cat,” Yuri grumbled as he clicked the ‘answer’ button.

            “Hey, Beka!  How was your flight?” Yuri was beaming already as Otabek’s face came into view on his laptop screen.

            Otabek looked exhausted and was still wearing the same outfit he had been wearing when they’d met for coffee that morning.  Yuri suspected that he’d just walked in the door and had to physically drag himself to the computer.  He felt bad about this, especially given how much later it was in Almaty than in St. Petersburg, but he also knew Otabek probably really wanted to talk about the article that had turned their day into absolute hell.

            “It was good, but long.  Just got home about ten minutes ago.  How about yours?” Brown eyes widened as he finally noticed the familiar light blue shirt Yuri was wearing. “Hey, is that my shirt?  I’ve been looking for that!”

            Yuri smirked, purposely letting the sleeve slide down his arm even farther and revealing about half of his collar bone to the other man. He pretended not to notice the little intake of breath Otabek did at the sight.  “You should be more careful with your things.  You left this here and I don’t particularly want to give it back.”

            Otabek groaned, burying his face in his hands for a second before looking back at the screen. “You’re going to be the death of me.  But keep that shirt.  You look better in it anyway.”

            Grinning triumphantly, Yuri pulled the collar up to his nose, smelling the scent on it and hoping he was coming off as more sexy rather than creepy. “Good.  It even still smells like you, so you weren’t getting it back anyway.”

Otabek swallowed but otherwise said nothing at the sight of Yuri inhaling his scent.  The conversation lulled a little after that, back to basic things like skating routines, music, and Otabek’s latest DJ gig. The small talk was making Yuri anxious though, like they were just putting off the inevitable with the conversation they knew needed to be had.

            “So about that article—“ Otabek finally cut to the chase. “My coach is calling for damage control and wants us to make a statement to the press.  What do Viktor and Yuuri have to say about it?”

            Yuri frowned at that, insulted that Otabek’s coach even thought there was any damage to deal with. “They both said to ignore it and let it go away like a bad rumor.  They’ve dealt with this kind of shit before so I think we should do what they say.”

            Otabek sighed, but nodded his agreement. “They are better at handling these kinds of situations.  My coach is a little more, uh…old fashioned, I guess.”

            Yuri let out a loud snort at that. “Your coach is an ass, you mean.  What does it fucking matter if people think we’re together?  You were the one who said that to me back in Prague.”

            The relief on Otabek’s face from that comment was so sincere that Yuri swore his heart was fucking melting like a protagonist in one of those awful romance novels Mila was always reading.  He realized that something was stirring in his heart, and he wondered if this might be the love Otabek claimed he felt for him.  It was too soon to say any of this out loud, but Yuri was thinking that maybe he could get used to the idea of loving Otabek and being loved in return.

            “Alright, we’ll ignore it and hope it goes away.  If it gets any different, we can revisit this discussion,” Otabek was smiling now.  “So about your trip to Almaty…”

            With rejuvenated enthusiasm, the two men went back and forth for the next hour or so discussing dates and details that Yuri was going to come stay with Otabek.  Yuri would have to clear it with his doctor and physical therapist first, but since he wasn’t competing this season and didn’t have any students to coach, he figured that he could spend several weeks in Almaty.  Otabek was of course happy to oblige his friend, telling him that he could stick around as long as he pleased. 

            By the end of the conversation, Yuri had booked his flights and was getting excited about this trip.  He would be flying to Kazakhstan in two weeks after the New Year, since he had already promised that he’d spend that with the Russian skating team as they had a tradition of going on a New Year’s bar crawl every year, and would be staying with Otabek in his apartment for a month.  Otabek even offered to let him bring Potya, but Yuri declined, figuring that would be too stressful for the cat and insisted Georgi could watch her since he was retired and had nothing better to do these days. 

            For once, Yuri was the first one to start yawning.  Potya had decided she’d forgiven him and had found her way back into his chest, so he was cuddling with her while trying to talk to Otabek and the warmth of her body and soft purring was lulling him into an exhausted sleep.  Otabek chuckled at the sight and even took a picture on his phone to be printed out and framed.  Yuri whined and begged him to delete it, but Otabek firmly refused and insisted it was the cutest damn thing he had ever seen.  “Compensation for my favorite shirt,” he added.

            Yuri ultimately conceded with an indignant “Hmph!” and Otabek continued to chuckle.  He finally told Yuri to sign off and go to bed, that they could talk again tomorrow.  He was reluctant, but Yuri really was exhausted and he wanted to shower off the stink of airport travel before going to bed.  So with a soft smile, he murmured, “Night Beka,” and signed off at Otabek replied with his own “Sweet dreams, Yura.”

            Stroking at Potya’s head, Yuri felt himself starting to drift off from his place on the bed.  Mission accomplished about the shirt, he peeled it off and forced himself to get up and take the shower that he’d been avoiding.  When he came back into the room, he decided to forgo any other clothing and put Otabek’s shirt back on, breathing deeply and enjoying the scent that was so uniquely Otabek surrounding him.  Potya curled up on the pillow next to his head and Yuri fell into a deeper, more contented sleep than he’d had since before his injury.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to whomever recognizes the song Mila quoted at Yuri. ;) (I'm probably showing my age here a little bit...)


	5. Now or Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I keep thinking that maybe this fic is getting close to the end, but every time I say that I come up with more ideas. So, I'm going to assume that there will be a few more chapters of this before. Either way, I'm still having fun but have a few more ideas swirling around in my head, so I might be updating with a new fic in the not too distant future.
> 
> I apologize that it feels like the last few chapters haven't had much exciting happen. I feel like it's all been necessary build up, but it could also be because I'm not as a great of a writer as I had hoped, so who knows? I'm just grateful anyone is still reading at this point! I promise it will pick up after this.
> 
> And if anybody cares, I tend to make playlists to listen to while I write, so I'd be happy to share what I've been listening to while writing this story! If interested, just message me here or on Tumblr (same username as here).
> 
> Also, all of you reading this are the absolute best! Y'all sure know how to make a girl enjoy writing again! And thank you to all of my new followers on Tumblr as well!

            “Fuck, quit moving, Katsudon!” Yuri swore as he wobbled and nearly lost his balance while doing a step-up exercise in the small weight room attached to the rink where the skaters often did some of their off-ice training.  It just had a couple of treadmills and some mismatched free weights, but it was more than enough for Yuri to work on some of his physical therapy exercises and provided him much more privacy than if he had done so at his regular gym.

            “Sorry, Yurio,” Katsuki legitimately looked apologetic as he once again offered his shoulder as a balancing point for Yuri as he forced his bad knee to bend and support his weight with each step onto the small step that was left over from the step aerobics craze of the eighties, which the whole team suspected might have been about the last time any money had been put into this workout room.

            With a frustrated sigh, Yuri finished the set and sat down on the step, burying his face in his hands for a second before nervously redoing the pony tail that he had put his hair up in for what constituted for a workout these days.  When he finished that, he moved on to glaring at the nasty, old, stained blue carpet of the floor as if it had all the answers he was so desperately searching for.  Although he was nowhere close to working out hard enough to break a sweat, the spandex of his workout shirt was starting to feel hot and suffocating, and he had to mentally count to three and remind himself that he was in a public place and couldn’t just start ripping his clothes off when he got frustrated or felt an oncoming panic attack like the one he had experienced the day of his surgery.

            “Yurio?” Katsuki sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of his younger friend, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

            “It’s nothing, just something stupid,” Yuri grumbled before starting to stand up so he could do his next set of exercises.

            Yuuri tugged his arm and yanked him back down to a sitting position once again.  Yuri was more startled by the action than it was Katsuki was stronger than him, given how rare it was for Yuuri to take charge of a situation like that.  The Japanese man raised an expectant eyebrow at Yuri and sat with his arms crossed over his chest, patiently waiting for him to start talking.

            “You really are getting more and more annoying the longer I know you,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Viktor has been rubbing off on you.”

            Yuuri smiled a little at that, expression softening but still looking every bit like a stern parent that was waiting for their teenage child to explain why they had gotten themselves suspended from school.  Yuri really wished those two idiots would stop trying to act like surrogate parents to him. 

Another part of Yuri thought maybe the old couple should get another dog.  Makkachin had been gone for years now and it was as if they were determined to take out all of their suppressed parental instincts on him.  Maybe a puppy would be his gift to them for New Years.  Or not, since that meant he’d have to keep it in his apartment for a few days and no way in hell was he about to put his precious Potya through that.  Plus there was the small detail that Yuri hated dogs.

            But then, who else did he have to talk to right now?  Otabek was obviously out of the question and Mila was usually his go-to person when the first wasn’t an option, but she had flown off to New York or something to whisk Sara away on a special New Year’s trip and celebrate with her in Times Square so she could kiss her at midnight under the fireworks or some romantic bullshit.  Georgi was retired and more dramatic than ever now that he didn’t have his creative outlet to pour his erratic emotions into.  Yuri would likely just end up wanting to strangle Viktor five minutes into any conversation about love and other feelings.

            Given his other options, Katsuki almost seemed like the sane and logical choice.  Although he was still reeling from trying to figure out his own feelings, Yuri was hoping that maybe voicing them out loud would bring him some clarity. 

            “I’m just nervous about how thing are going to go in Almaty,” Yuri sighed, tugging nervously at the ends of his hair.

            “Why is that?  You and Otabek have been friends for years, what could go wrong?” Yuuri was actually perplexed by the concept that Yuri could feel anything other than totally comfortable around Otabek.

            “Jesus Fucking Christ, because now I know he loves me!  And I told him that I need to work out my own feelings and even though he hasn’t pressured me at all to make a decision, I’m putting pressure on myself to make one.” Yuri put his face on his knees, folding in on himself and hoping it would help to shut out the world that was so confusing to him at the moment.

            Yuuri simply “hmm”ed in response and seemed to be thinking of the best way to respond to this.  If anyone knew how to deal with anxiety issues, it would be Katusdon, but Yuri wasn’t sure that he was going to hold his breath over this.  He knew deep down that this was something he had to figure out on his own, but it was still nice to voice his concerns out loud to someone else and maybe even have his concerns validated.

            “While I think Otabek is doing the right thing by not pressuring you, I think the pressure you’re putting on yourself means that you already know the answer.” Yuuri reached out and gently placed a hand on the younger Yuri’s head. “And it’s only fair to Otabek that you tell him.”

            Yuri’s gut twisted at this response, but of fucking course Katsudon was right.  A part of him had known all along, but now it was just a matter of finding the courage to say what needed to be said.

“Thanks, Katsudon.  I think…I think I know what I’m going to do when I get to Almaty,” Yuri finally lifted his head and smiled a little, albeit a nervous one.

“Anytime!” Katsuki returned the smile as he stood and reached a hand out to help Yuri get up.  “Anyway, I think you’ve done enough for today with your knee.  See you tonight?”

            Green eyes rolled so far back sometimes it was a wonder that they didn’t get stuck. “Of course I’ll be there.  Just because Mila bailed doesn’t mean the rest of us get to skip out on our New Year’s traditions.”

            “Great!” Yuuri was so happy that Yuri thought it almost looked like it was his wedding day all over again.  Katsuki would get oddly sentimental about certain holidays, but he wondered if it had anything to do with the homesickness everybody knew he still suffered once in a while.  From the time Yuri had spent with the Katsuki family over the years, he’d learned a lot about Japanese culture, and he knew that the New Year was a big deal to them. 

            “I’ll even bring the katusdon pirozhki,” Yuri grinned before playfully punching Yuuri in the shoulder.

            “It’s a deal!  Just prepare your liver for after dinner!”

            Yuri groaned. “If you two end up naked on the roof of a castle arguing over a mythological fish again, I swear to God I will leave you up there and submit photos to all of the tabloids.”

            Katsuki’s face paled. “That was five years ago!  When will everybody let that die?!”

            “Never!” Yuri grinned. “But seriously, I have to shower.  See you later.”

            “Later, Yurio!”

            Finally alone with his thoughts, Yuri turned toward the locker room, but not before taking a moment to stare out at the empty ice rink.  Part of him itched to give his doctors and friends a giant ‘fuck you’ and put on his skates while nobody was around to tell him otherwise.  He wouldn’t attempt any jumps, just some easy laps around the rink so that he’d could feel the cool rush of air in his face while his blades cut through the surface of the ice.  He just needed a few minutes on the ice to clear his mind and settle his nerves.

            But he subconsciously found himself rubbing at his still healing knee and felt his stomach sink as he realized what a bad idea that would be. 

            _Just a few more months, Plisetsky.  You can do this._

            With all the pain of leaving a piece of his soul behind, Yuri turned and walked out of the rink.

 

* * *

 

 

            New Year’s came and went, although Yuri had to admit it was some of the most fun he’d had since the Grand Prix Final.  Phichit had flown into town as he usually did to spend the holiday with Yuuri, but then Chris had surprised everyone by showing up with his fiancée whose name Yuri could never remember—he just knew the man was a former ice dancer that had been around Chris for as long as Yuri had known him.  The night had of course entailed lots of alcohol, and while Yuri was unfortunately once again forced to see everyone naked as seemed to be this group’s nature while drunk, at least no poles were brought out for dancing on and nobody climbed to the top of a castle to declare their love publically.        

            In fact, Yuri was very happy to say that he passed out on Viktor and Yuuri’s couch not long after midnight, all of his clothes still on.  Other than the string of drool and the slight hangover he woke up with the next morning, he could have done much worse given the circumstances.  Yuri’s only regret was that he was just _slightly_ jealous of the Snapchats he woke up to that morning of Mila and Sara making out with each other in Times Square while confetti flew everywhere and the fireworks went off in the background.  It must have just struck midnight in New York, and as happy as he was for one of his dearest friends, he also couldn’t stomach watching a couple be so damn _happy_ while he was currently in one of the less than stellar periods of his life.

            Fuck, he really missed Otabek.

 

* * *

 

 

            The morning that he was set to take off for Almaty couldn’t come soon enough.  He waved at Katsudon and Viktor as they dropped him off at the airport with barely a “Dasvidaniya,” as he bolted to check his bag and get through security.  St. Petersburg had slowly felt like the walls were closing in on him over the past month or so and even if he hadn’t planned on visiting Otabek, chances were good that he was going to have to leave sometime soon for the sake of his sanity.  After a lifetime of constantly traveling, Yuri refused to sit still for more than a couple of weeks at a time.  Just another way that this knee was slowly trying to kill him on a spiritual level.

            So when he finally stepped off the plane and got through customs, Yuri all but sprinted as fast as his leg would allow him so that he could pounce on the unsuspecting Otabek waiting for him in baggage claim.  Yuri didn’t even cry out “Beka!” like he usually did, just stood there with his arms wound so tight around his shoulders that passersby were starting to worry that maybe Yuri was drugged.  When his lithe frame started shaking, Otabek finally snapped to attention and returned the hug, rubbing Yuri’s shoulders and asking, “Yura?  Are you okay?”

            A pause and then, “Yeah, sorry.  Been a weird couple of weeks.  Just really glad to see you.”

            Untangling himself from Otabek, Yuri grabbed his luggage and then proceeded to follow him out the door to where Otabek had, sadly, brought his black SUV rather than motorcycle.  Otabek must have seen the disappointed look on Yuri’s face because he gave him a quick peck on the temple and pointed out that it was way too fucking cold and there was too much snow and ice to be riding the bike right now.  Yuri grumbled something about stupid winter and Otabek just smiled at him. 

            The ride back was uneventful, Otabek being a good driver and keeping his eyes on the road at all times, while Yuri nervously picked at the material of his jeans.  He had about a million thoughts rushing through his head at once, but was having a hard time trying to figure out what to say.  He supposed that was a sign that maybe he had matured a little since when he was fifteen and had first met Otabek—back then, Yuri had been brash and didn’t believe in the concept of a filter between his brain and mouth.  Now, he found himself actually thinking about what he wanted to say and how it would affect the other person in the situation—basically, how would Otabek react?

            For his part, Otabek seemed content to stay quiet as per usual.  It was as infuriating to Yuri as it was endearing, how he never could really tell what was going on underneath that beautiful undercut. 

            Yuri was suddenly aware of Otabek pulling the SUV into an underground parking garage.  “We’re here,” he stated unnecessarily and got out of the car before helping Yuri drag all of his bags to the elevator.

            Although Yuri had stayed with Otabek on several occasions, the beautiful architecture of his apartment building never ceased to amaze Yuri.  He’d always known that Otabek’s family was wealthy, and while Yuri made a decent enough living between his skating, sponsorships, and other advertising deals, his own apartment was modest compare to Otabek’s. 

            Otabek lived in a large two bedroom apartment.  The design was modern, open concept with the outer wall of the living room being entirely large windows overlooking the mountains in the distance.  There was only one bathroom to be shared between the two bedrooms, but it was large and luxurious like the rest of the place.  Yuri just assumed that he’d be staying in the spare bedroom, typically saved for Otabek’s younger sister when she came to visit, and started walking down the hallway to deposit his luggage. 

            When he came back into the living area, Otabek was in the kitchen slamming cabinets and pulling various food items out of the fridge.  When Yuri came over and sat down at the island, Otabek surprised him by starting to talk more than he had in the past hour or so.

            “I was planning on cooking dinner real quick, and then I have a DJ gig at a club later.  Do you want to come along?”

            Suddenly remembering their first Grand Prix Final together when Yuri had snuck into the club Otabek was DJ’ing at before forcing him to help him create his Welcome to the Madness routine, Yuri couldn’t help but grin at his best friend.  “Fuck yes, I want to come!  You still owe me from when we met in Barcelona five years ago.”

            Otabek returned the grin and threw a piece of bell pepper at Yuri.  It landed in his blonde hair and the younger man rolled his eyes before pulling it out and popping it into his mouth.  He heard a fake snort of disgust come from the other side of the counter before Otabek went back to chopping and prepping the food as if nothing had happened.

            After a quick and simple dinner designed to meet the macros of a professional athlete, Yuri took over the bathroom for the sake of taking a shower and getting ready to make himself presentable to the public while Otabek did whatever it was he normally did to get ready for a show.

            Yuri toyed with the idea of wearing the same outfit he had worn that night at the club in Prague, but thought that might send the wrong message given how everything ended that night.  He wanted to grab Otabek’s attention and this time, hold it all night. 

            So instead, he opted for a pair of black skinny jeans that were strategically ripped over the knees, a simple jade green tank top to make his eyes pop, and a black choker that attached to a gold body chain.  He made sure to shake his hair out so that it was at its full length past his shoulder blades and looked shiny and soft after spraying in a ton of leave-in conditioner.

            In the end, he had to recycle the same pair of boots that he’d worn in Prague because he could only fit so many clothes in a suitcase, but figured that was the last part of his outfit that anybody, least of all Otabek, would be looking at tonight.

            When he walked out into the hallway and saw Otabek waiting by the door, texting somebody, Yuri felt his heart stop for a minute.  It wasn’t fair how Otabek could look so damn good wearing nothing more than his usual jeans and V-neck white t-shirt.  The light color of the shirt stood out in stark contrast to his tanned skin, and Yuri found himself nervously licking his lips at the sight of the bulging biceps that were straining against the too-tight material of the sleeves.

            That was when Otabek finally looked up from his phone and Yuri saw his pupils dilate as his eyes grew wide.  He was a little more surprised when Otabek let out a low whistle of appreciation, saying, “Fuck, you look incredible, Yura.  I might have to keep an eye on you tonight.”

            Yuri, of course, stuck his tongue out childishly at Otabek to mask his embarrassment, before grabbing his jacket as the two of them walked out the door.  Otabek locked up behind them and slung his computer bag over his shoulder.

            He just hoped tonight went at least a little better than the last time they had gone out.

 

* * *

 

            The club was within walking distance thankfully, and Yuri was shocked by how busy it was when they arrived.  He noticed flyers all over the entrance advertising Otabek’s gig that night, and somehow it made his heart swell with pride to see so many people show up to listen to his best friend’s music.

             The bouncer nodded at Otabek and gave Yuri a once-over before lifting the velvet rope separating the line outside from the club.  Without warning, Otabek grabbed Yuri’s hand and laced their fingers together before pulling him in the direction of the back, wordlessly signaling for the younger to follow him. 

            They went through a small door behind the bar and then up a set of stairs before coming back out on a balcony overlooking the dancefloor.  A DJ booth was already set up and Otabek walked over to it and began pulling his laptop, headphones, and a series of wires out of his bag and set to work setting it all up.  A waitress came over and handed him a bottle of water and said something to him in Kazakh, causing Otabek to throw his head back in absolute laughter and responding with something Yuri didn’t understand.  Otabek must have seen the confused look Yuri gave him because he simply winked at him and said something else to the waitress before she disappeared for a minute and returned with what looked like a vodka and Red Bull and handed it to Yuri with a smile.

            Yuri tried not to notice how pretty this waitress was, the glitter around her blue eyes setting them off in the low club lighting and making them stand out against her dark hair that she wore down.  She was dressed in the typical tight, black mini dress that seemed to be the uniforms of waitresses at all bars and nightclubs, and in the end Yuri felt that familiar stab of jealousy since she clearly was familiar with Otabek and that he in turn was perfectly comfortable with her.

             She gave him a soft smile and finally said something in Russian so that Yuri could actually understand, although she had to lean in and talk directly in his ear to be heard over the music, “I was just telling Otabek how lucky he is to have such a gorgeous boyfriend.  He told me I should try being in the room with you for more than five minutes and see if I think your attitude matches your looks.”

            Yuri was blushing so furiously that he didn’t even know how to respond for a minute.  He didn’t even register the part where Otabek didn’t correct her on Yuri not actually being his boyfriend, just that she thought he was pretty and Otabek had agreed.

            By the time he remembered to say something, though, the girl had walked away and was back to working her shift.

            “Hey,” Otabek was suddenly in front of him, trying to get his attention. “Follow me.  You can hang out in VIP until my shift is over.”

             Yuri tried not to pout at that. “But Bekaaaa, I wanna hang out with you!”

             Otabek smiled and flicked his nose affectionately.  “No can do, Yura.  I actually have to concentrate.  I do get paid for this, ya know.  Besides, it’s only a few hours.”

             Yuri grumbled something inaudible but followed Otabek over to what he figured was the VIP section.  The room was small and overlooked the club, but the noise was a little more subdued in there, making it much easier to converse with people.  There was also a private bar and a handful of attractive girls working bottle service.

            In the back there was a small group of young people sitting in a booth, bottle of champagne opened in the middle of the table on a bucket of ice while they all chatted and laughed.  One of the girls looked up and saw the two of them before bursting into a huge grin and waving at them. “Beka!” she cried, “Over here!”

            Yuri followed Otabek over to where the group was sitting, silently a little salty over the fact that somebody else besides himself or Otabek’s sister Irina had called him Beka.  The girl that called them over elbowed the boy next to her, and next thing Yuri knew, a chorus of “Beka!  Yuri!” broke out and he was confused as to who the fuck these people were.

            The girl that called them over broke away and ran over to grab Yuri’s hand, gushing and excited. “You must be Yuri!  I’m so glad to finally meet you!  Beka never shuts up about you.”

            Otabek fixed her with a warning glare but she barged on. “I’m Alina, by the way.  We’ve all known Otabek since grade school and make sure to come to as many of his shows as we can.”

            “Oh,” Yuri replied, honestly unsure of how to respond.  He’d never had many friends, especially as a child, so the idea of having a group of people you loved and trusted that had been around since the beginning was completely foreign to him.  It was also strange realizing that Otabek had a whole part of his life that Yuri wasn’t a part of, and it rubbed him the wrong way for some reason.

            “Yura, I have to get to work.  I’ll come get you when my shift is over,” Otabek clapped him on the shoulder before turning to walk out of the room after Yuri nodded his acknowledgement.

            As soon as Otabek left the room, Alina all but pounced on Yuri. “Oh, my God.  He calls you Yura?!  That’s so adorable!”

            Next thing Yuri knew, he was being dragged by Alina over to the booth that everyone was sitting at.  The other girl gave him a long, hard look but didn’t say anything.  Yuri was actually a little intimidated by her, one side of her head shaved with the ends of her hair dyed bright blue, a septum piercing, and her eyes framed with dark kohl liner that had harsh but perfect lines.  She didn’t say anything to him, but one of the guys elbowed her and said, “Be nice, Kamila.  If Beka likes him, he’s okay by me.”

            Kamila rolled her dark eyes and reached for her glass of champagne, leaning back against the cushions of the booth. “Whatever, Roman.  You know how protective we all are of Beka.”

            The other guy in the group leaned forward, talking directly to Yuri while Kamila and Roman bickered with each other. He seemed more relaxed than the rest of the group, with kind, dark eyes and dark hair that was long enough to be pulled back into a bun.  He smiled and introduced himself as Alexei before saying, “Don’t mind Kamila and Roman.  They’ve been together since high school and have officially reached the old married couple phase of their relationship.”

            “I see,” Yuri said, taking a sip from his neglected drink as a way to distract himself.

            Alina slid into the booth on the other side of Yuri, pulling her long hair back into a pony tail to get it out of her face.  She wordlessly leaned over Yuri to grab the bottle of champagne to refill her glass, before turning to both Yuri and Alexei.  Although she was outwardly bright and bubbly, Yuri had a suspicion that she had a protective streak about her and was about to play Twenty Questions with him about his intentions with Otabek.

            “Well, Kamila wasn’t wrong about us being protective of our Beka.  He’s usually so shy and reserved around people that when he came back from Barcelona all those years ago, we were of course more than a little curious about this mythical fairy that swept him off his feet.” Alina was talking smoothly as she sipped on the expensive champagne, as if this were the most natural interjection into the conversation ever. “Now that you’re here and Otabek told you his feelings, we all want to know if you love him too.”

            Yuri about choked on the last of his drink, coughing and spluttering for a few minutes while Alexei sympathetically smacked him on the back.  Alina just sat there calmly the whole time with her long, thin legs crossed, not saying anything and simply staring at Yuri over the rim of her glass, her dark eyes narrowed and expectant.

            When he finally caught his breath, Roman and Kamila had stopped arguing long enough to start listening in to the conversation, and one of them waved the waitress over for a glass of water and a refill on Yuri’s vodka and Red Bull.  Water and half of his new drink downed, Yuri took a deep breath and finally told the group, “I…yeah.  I think I love him too.  I’m just trying to figure out how to tell him.”

            Alina beamed at this news and shouted, “Great!” and that was it.  The conversation shifted completely to typical small chat while getting to know new people, and by the end of the night, Yuri was laughing and joking with all of them.  He was pleasantly surprised to realize that he actually really liked this group of people and could understand why Otabek had spent so much of his life with them.  Alina was loud and fun, Alexei the down to Earth one that reeled her back in when she went too far.  Kamila’s stern exterior was more an act than anything, and once she relaxed and decided that she trusted Yuri, her wit and sarcasm had him almost rolling on the ground from laughing so hard.  He could tell that she and Roman were absolutely in love and completely comfortable with each other, and he couldn’t help but hope that he and Otabek would eventually reach that point.

            It barely felt like any time had passed at all before Otabek rejoined the group, switching places with Alina so he could slide into the space next to Yuri and put his hand on Yuri’s knee under the table where nobody could see it. “They better have been nice to you,” Otabek stated, fixing all of his friends with a pointed look.

            “Of course we were!  We love Yuri!” Alina was a little more than drunk at this point, all smiles and giggles. “I totally understand why you kept him from us for all these years.”

            The tips of Otabek’s ears turned red and he said something to Alina in Kazakh.  She rolled her eyes and replied, and suddenly everyone was bickering and laughing in a language Yuri couldn’t understand.  He was mildly annoyed and just this side of pissed off for being left out of the conversation, but he felt Otabek’s warm hand stroking the inside of his knee, a wordless signal that he wasn’t missing anything important and that Otabek’s attention was all on him.

            Finally, Alexei announced that he was going to get Alina home before she made a bigger ass of herself, and after a few more rounds of volleyed insults and friendly jabs, the group said their goodbyes and Yuri and Otabek were heading back to the apartment, their arms swung around each other’s waists.  Yuri may have even squeezed Otabek’s ass in a not-so-subtle manner, earning him a surprised yelp and a mumbled, “Brat.” 

            Yuri of course laughed at the whole thing while he waited for Otabek to fish his keys out of his pocket and let them in to the building.

            It wasn’t until they were back inside and Yuri had collapsed on the couch that Otabek sat next to him, asking what Yuri thought of his friends.

            The smile Yuri flashed him was so genuine that Otabek’s heart melted a little at the sight. “Oh my god, Beka, they’re _awesome!_   Why did you never introduce me before?  Kamila is like my long-lost salt sister or something, for fuck’s sake!”

            Okay, Yuri might have been slightly drunk after spending several hours with bottle service in the VIP room.  He was only just tipsy though, not hammered and still in full control of himself.  That being said, it definitely took the edge off him and made him bolder.  So while Otabek was laughing and saying something about how he’s glad his favorite people are all getting along, Yuri couldn’t take it anymore and finally leaned in to kiss Otabek. 

            The kiss wasn’t heated, just quick and affectionate.  Otabek was surprised at first but was absolutely speechless when Yuri said, “Beka, I know how I feel about you now,” and proceeded to kiss him deeply.

            The noise that came from Otabek was both surprised and happy, and suddenly Yuri felt his back being pressed into the cushions of the couch as Otabek leaned over him.  They remained like that, Otabek stretched out over Yuri’s lithe form, the two of them making out lazily while letting their hands wander a little, Otabek’s running through Yuri’s hair and then down to his choker/body chain combination and tugging a little on the small, golden chains.  Yuri growled into his mouth as he ran his hands down Otabek’s sides and rolled their hips together, earning him a soft groan from the man above him.  He was surprised when the friction caused him to let out his own needy whine, Beka’s name on his lips.

            “Yura,” Otabek warned, moving his hands to pin Yuri’s hips down on the couch. 

            “Beka, please.  I want this so badly and I know you do too,” Yuri murmured, kissing the corner of Otabek’s mouth and working his way down to his neck, hoping to break the man’s resolve.

            Otabek grabbed Yuri’s shoulders and pushed him back, looking at him sternly but clearly fighting the lust clouding his eyes. “Of course I do, Yura.  But we have all the time in the world.  It’s your first night here.  Just give me a little time, okay?  I love you and want to make sure we do this right.”

            Yuri sighed and flopped his head back against the arm of the couch. “Fine.  But I want to sleep in your bed tonight.”  
            Otabek swore in Kazakh above him.  “I swear you’re trying to kill me, Yura.”

            “Nope, just slowly break you down until you give me what I want,” Yuri laughed, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s shoulders and pulling him down on top of him to nuzzle into his neck.

            Otabek returned the embrace and physically melted into Yuri’s arms, all but purring as he felt the blunt end of Yuri’s nails run through the shaved sides of his undercut.  They stayed there like that for God only knew how long, and Yuri hadn’t even realized that he’d dozed off until he felt Otabek shaking his shoulder and saying, “Fine, come on.  You can sleep in my bed tonight but we’re keeping our clothes on.”

            Yuri smirked but before he could comment, Otabek cut him off. “And nothing over our clothes.  Sleep and cuddling tonight, that’s it.”

            Green eyes rolled but Yuri got up and followed Otabek down the hallway. “Okay, Altin, you win.  I’ll keep my hands to myself…for now.”

            After changing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth, Yuri was out the instant he got under the covers and shamelessly wrapped himself around Otabek.  For his part, Otabek had to chuckle and he nuzzled into the blonde hair, murmuring a soft, “Goodnight, Yura,” before finally drifting off himself.

            Yuri didn’t think he could be any happier than when he woke up the next morning, limbs tangled up with Otabek’s, watching the rise and fall of the other man’s chest as he continued to sleep.  Thinking he was the only one awake, he buried his face into the other man’s broad chest and whispered a soft, “I love you, Beka,” before drifting off into a second sleep.

            If only he’d heard the soft hitch in Otabek’s breath, he’d have known that the other man heard him.

            If Otabek had died right then and there, he wouldn’t complain, because he couldn’t think of a more perfect moment.

           

 


	6. Almaty Adventures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flips table* This chapter has far and away been the most frustrating of this work so far. I know I say this every chapter, but I'm so dissatisfied with it. I've been stuck on it for over two weeks now when my goal has been to try and update this about once a week, so I just wanted to get it posted at this point. Sigh. I might need to take a short break from this fic and write something else and then circle back to this. (I promise this will not be abandoned though!!) I did try to make this chapter slightly longer to make up for it.
> 
> Also, very NSFW content in this chapter. You have been warned. :D 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone in this fandom for always being so lovely to me! Y'all are the best! ;-*

            Just as in everything else with their strictly regimented lives, Yuri and Otabek quickly fell into a routine during Yuri’s stay in Almaty.  Most mornings they would wake up, snuggled close together.  Yuri had taken to stealing Otabek’s shirts and sweat pants to sleep in, although the last couple of nights he had forgone the pants and just slept in whatever shirt he had stolen out of Otabek’s dresser.  The Kazakh normally teased him about it, but he had to admit that seeing Yuri in his clothes was probably one of the sexier things he had ever experienced.

            The teasing would normally lead to them making out for a few minutes, ending only either when Otabek would push Yuri away and mumble an excuse before running into the bathroom to take a (presumably cold) shower, or Yuri would scrunch his nose and start complaining about Otabek’s morning breath.  The two of them had become so domestic that it was nauseating, and Yuri couldn’t help but inwardly laugh at the irony of them becoming a married couple practically overnight, and before they had even had sex.

            On this particular morning, five days after arriving in Almaty, Yuri was in a good mood and so had decided to start making breakfast while Otabek was still in the shower.  It was probably becoming one of his favorite things to hear the small intake of breath come from the doorway when Otabek walked into the kitchen to find Yuri in nothing more than one of his stolen t-shirts.  Although Otabek’s shirts were rather large on him, they didn’t hide the endless length that was Yuri’s legs.  The blonde had taken to wearing a compression sock of sorts over the injured knee, claiming it was to keep the swelling down, but also because he was secretly self-conscious of the angry, red scars that had resulted from the incisions.  Yuri hadn’t admitted this out loud, but Otabek damn well knew.  Yuri’s legs had always been the one part of his body that he was confident about, probably because he recognized their beauty and strength that came from years of training on the ice and in ballet.  Of course, Otabek couldn’t care less about the scars, especially if they meant Yuri was healing and would return to the ice sooner rather than later, but he decided to allow him this small piece of vanity.

            Without realizing what was doing, Otabek came up behind Yuri to wrap his arms around his middle, burying his face in the blonde hair draped over Yuri’s shoulder.  Yuri laughed and warned him that the eggs would burn, but Otabek mumbled a soft “Don’t care,” while his lips ghosted the nape of Yuri’s neck.

            “Beka, let go or you won’t have time to eat before you have to leave for practice,” Yuri scolded, but laughed when Otabek whined like a small child.

            Eventually, Yuri was able to extract himself from Otabek and make the man eat some food.  While Otabek was getting ready to leave for his morning off-ice training, Yuri had been diligently going to physical therapy almost every morning.  It was slow going and painful, but he was determined to get it done and get back to skating as soon as he was physically able to.

            Their afternoons consisted of Otabek’s on ice training, and Yuri almost always tagged along for that.  Much to the chagrin of Otabek’s coach, Dalen, it was commonplace for Yuri to step in and start snapping at Otabek about where his form was sloppy and how he could improve the choreography.  Dalen may or may not have had to intervene a few times and tell Yuri to _butt the fuck out_ , and that more often than not led to a verbal altercation between the two until Otabek had yell at them both to shut up and grow the fuck up.  Yuri would pout, make one more snide comment, then resign himself to sitting on the bench for the rest of practice until Dalen released Otabek from training so they could leave and have the rest of the day to spend together.

            And maybe the rest of their day together typically involved a heated make out session in the locker room so that once it was time to leave, they were both flushed hot with arousal and whining into each other’s mouths.  Thankfully they were able to agree that their first time should not be in a locker room, and so were only just barely able to stop themselves from tearing each other’s clothes off right then and there.

            Otabek’s DJ gigs had also continued to pick up recently, and Yuri had found that he was more than happy to tag along to every single one of those—especially if Kamila, Alina, Roman, and Alexei were going to be there.  It was odd to Yuri how easily he fit in with their small group…he was clearly shit at making friends, and even with Mila it had taken him years before he was able to audibly admit that he maybe didn’t hate her quite as much as he pretended to. 

            On a Thursday night almost two weeks after getting to Almaty, Yuri was once again drinking with the group while Otabek was up in the DJ booth.  He’d shown up in another pair of black skinny jeans and a cropped metallic silver tank top that laced up in the front.  He hadn’t missed the way Otabek’s eyes lit up and followed him every time he looked up from his equipment, and Yuri was sure to do something to put on a small show every time Otabek looked at him.  This was anything from dipping his finger in his drink and shamelessly sucking the liquid off, to going out onto the dancefloor and showing off his undeniable skills as a dancer, on or off the ice.  Usually Otabek would keep that stoic look and go back to his set, but Yuri knew him well enough to see the flustered blush creeping up his neck.  He was confident that it was only a matter of time before he drove Otabek over the edge.

            He was a few vodka tonics in when Alina sauntered her way up to him, an evil glint in her eyes.  Yuri had gotten to know her well enough over the last couple of weeks to suddenly be very wary of whatever it was she had planned.  She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and Yuri couldn’t help the smile that cracked across his face at the suggestion.

            “Alina,” he laughed, “You are pure evil and I love it.”

            With that, she dragged him out into the center of the dancefloor, right where they knew Otabek would see them.  The beat had picked up to something quick, and the music was blaring over the speakers.  It was hot as hell in the club with all of the bodies, and Yuri could already feel the sweat dripping down his back in what he was sure had to be totally disgusting and not sexy at all.  Before he could comment on this though, Alina had spun him around and started grinding against him in time with the music. 

“Quit thinking so hard, Yuri.  We’ll put on a show for Otabek and he’ll go nuts, then take you home and have his way with you.” Alina hissed while flipping her hair over her shoulder.  It was amazing how she could be both demanding and flirtatious all at once.

            “Fine,” Yuri sighed, “Let’s do this.”

            It was barely a minute before Yuri felt eyes boring into him.  While he and Alina continued to dance together, hips gyrating and Yuri purposely leaning into her personal space, he made sure to make eye contact with Otabek through a curtain of loose hair.  Alina, being the evil shit that she was, leaned close enough to Yuri’s ear to whisper, “You see how Beka’s staring?  He’s losing his cool.  I’ve never seen him do that before.  You must really be something.”

            Sure enough, the glare Otabek was fixing the two of them with was a mix of rage and pure lust.  Yuri hoped he wasn’t pushing it too far, but he figured Alina knew Otabek even better than him, so if she said it would work, he more or less trusted her on it.  He just hoped that Otabek didn’t actually think Alina was leaning in to get him to make out with her or something.

            Without losing eye contact, Otabek leaned over and pushed a few buttons before the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kjaagQcYkc) changed.  It was a little faster than the previous song, and something about the lyrics had Yuri smirking…it was something sexy, about how the singer needed their lover right then and there.  Yuri just hoped that the glint in his eyes was evident across the dimly lit club, but somehow he knew just what Otabek was thinking.

            _So why you standing over there with ya clothes on_

_Baby strip down for me_

_Go on take ‘em off_

_Don’t worry baby,_

_Imma meet you halfway_

_‘Cause I know you wanna see me_

            Yuri licked his lips and had to keep himself from audibly groaning at the lyrics, truly hoping that they were indicative of what would happen when they got back to the apartment later that night.  Locking eyes with Otabek, the DJ winked and went back to his set as if nothing had happened.

            Yuri wanted to splutter in complete shock and instead let out an indignant squeak.  Alina threw her head back and laughed as she watched the scene unfold.

            “Oh Yuri, honey, he’s got it so bad.  You’ll see,” she giggled and gave Yuri a reassuring pat on the cheek before leading him away back to the bar so they could order some more drinks.

            Yuri mumbled and just hoped to God she was right.

 

* * *

 

           It should have come as no surprise that everybody had somehow stumbled back to Otabek’s apartment once the club had closed for the night and Kamila and Roman had announced that they wanted to keep drinking.  Someone had produced a pizza from seemingly nowhere, while a bottle of bourbon was passed around.  Otabek somehow didn’t own a single shot glass, and only had about three water tumblers that he kept around, which had at one point in time been a set of 4 until Roman had supposedly broken one a few years back, and all of those were of course fucking dirty.  So somehow the group was sitting around the floor, eating greasy pizza off paper towels and taking turns taking long swigs from the bottle of Maker’s Mark.  (Roman had bitched because he knew Otabek was hiding a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle and called him out for being a cheap bastard, to which Otabek told him to fuck off and that he would gladly take the Maker’s Mark back and leave Roman with nothing but water for the rest of the night).

            Yuri was sitting with his back to the arm of the couch, legs shameless sprawled over Otabek’s lap while the older man had his arm draped so that it appeared to be just over the back of the couch; everybody in the room knew was because he was doing the cheap high school boy ploy of wanting to put his arm around his date without making it obvious.  (Too bad it was painfully obvious).  Otabek had turned down the slice of pizza Yuri offered him, shrugging and saying something about still needing to get through the Four Continents and Worlds before he could go off his competition season diet.  Yuri shrugged and shoveled the whole mess of melted cheese in his mouth, deciding that maybe this was the one upside of being forced to take the remainder of the season off. 

            Yuri didn’t miss the way Otabek was looking at him from the corner of his eye.  He hoped it was because of the little show he and Alina had put on in the club earlier, and not because he was repulsed by Yuri’s ability to shove an entire slice of pizza in his mouth in one go.  He tried to suck the excess cheese from his fingers and make it appear like it was something sensual, but Otabek grunted and turned away.

            _Fuck, I hope I didn’t take it too far._ Yuri berated himself.  Although he mostly thought it was because all he had achieved was looking like a greedy slob, rather than hot like he was hoping. 

            Alina suddenly stood up and stretched while letting out a dramatic yawn.  “Alright guys, I’m out.  This old lady’s gotta get to bed.”

            Alexei cocked an eyebrow at her from his spot on the floor from the other side of the coffee table. “You’re kidding.  Since when are you the first one to leave?”

            “Fuck off, I’m tired!  People get tired sometimes,”  Dark eyes narrowed as Alina tried to send him a wordless message.  

            Alexei clearly wasn’t getting it. 

            Thankfully, Kamila was much quicker on the uptake.  “Roman, sweetheart, I’m pretty beat too.  Let’s hit it.”

            Roman whined and tried to chug what remained of the bourbon, but Kamila plucked the bottle from his lips and handed it back to Otabek before grabbing her boyfriend’s arm and dragging him out the front door.  She looked back over her shoulder and yelled a quick “Goodnight!” before the door slammed and the sounds of them bickering about the sudden exit could be heard as they disappeared down the hallway.

            Alina turned to Alexei and said, “Hey, walk me home?”   

            Alexei looked at her strangely and replied, “Don’t you live in this building too?”

            She sighed, and gave an apologetic look to Yuri and Otabek, although Yuri didn’t miss the flash of hurt in her eyes. “Yeah, but…fine.  Never mind.  Goodnight.” 

            Alina then turned on her heel and exited the apartment, leaving only Alexei, Otabek, and Yuri in the living room.

            At that point, the conversation felt like it had come to an abrupt and awkward halt.  Yuri looked over at Alexei and said, “You know, that was seriously a dick move by refusing to walk her home, even if she does live in the same building.”

            Alexei stared back at him, clearly perplexed by Yuri’s outburst.  “I wasn’t trying to be—“

            Yuri cut him off, pissed off at him on Alina’s behalf. “I know you weren’t.  But it was still a dick move and you should apologize to her.”

            Alexei looked like he had something further to say, but just as he opened his mouth, his phone started to buzz.  He looked down and upon seeing whatever notification he had received, said something had come up and he needed to go.  So with an awkward wave, he threw his shoes back on and bolted out the front door.  Yuri definitely missed that part where Otabek quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked over at Yuri.

            Admittedly, Yuri was slightly confused by the other man’s abrupt exit, wondering if Alina had sent him something and he had felt guilty after Yuri had chewed him out.  That being said, he was still mulling it over when Otabek’s voice cut through his thoughts as he heard him drop the mostly empty bourbon bottle on the side table and grumble, “Fucking _finally_.”

            Next thing Yuri knew, Otabek had spun him around on the couch and was kissing him hungrily.  The blonde let out a surprised squeak at first, but immediately melted into the kiss.  There was no preamble to any of it—tongues were thrust into each other’s mouths and Yuri quickly found himself straddling Otabek with a knee on either side of his hips, Otabek’s hands rubbing up and down Yuri’s sides until they settled on his ass.  He was so enthralled with the kiss that it wasn’t until Otabek shifted under him to roll his hips upwards that he was hit with a sudden wave of pain in his bad knee as he remembered that he should really not be in a kneeling position.

            The pained shout that came from Yuri scared Otabek for a second before he took note of the position they were in.  Feeling incredibly guilty, he instructed Yuri to put his arms around his neck before he stood up, wrapping Yuri’s legs around his middle and walking towards the bedroom.  Yuri groaned and began kissing down Otabek’s neck.

            Once in Otabek’s room, he gently laid Yuri down on the bed before crawling on top of him to resume their heated kissing.  It wasn’t long before Yuri’s hands were pawing at the hem of his shirt, whining and begging for him to take it off.  He obliged, rocking back just long enough to tug the shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere across the room.  Then he leaned down and set to work on Yuri’s shirt, the damned laces in the front frustrating him to hell. 

            A bark of laughter above him caught his attention as he looked up at Yuri to find his boyfriend laughing at him. “What?” he gruffed.

            “Beka, you don’t actually have to unlace it.  It just comes off,” Yuri snorted as he sat up and, proving his point, tugged the tank top over his head and threw it in the same general direction that Otabek’s shirt had landed.

            The red shade that Otabek’s face turned rivaled a tomato, but Yuri did his best to soothe Otabek’s embarrassment by leaning in and returning to their fevered making out, now made even more exquisite by the fact that they were both shirtless.  The added feeling of skin on skin sent new sparks of arousal straight to Yuri’s dick, and from the hard jab he was feeling in his hip, he had a hunch that Otabek was feeling it too.

            “Beka,” Yuri moaned, experimentally rolling his hips and making sure that their clothed erections ground together.

            The groan that tore from Otabek’s mouth was the most beautiful sound Yuri had ever heard.  He took that as a sign to keep going, to keep lifting his hips and grinding into Otabek’s cock until he was panting and begging for Yuri to slow down or he was going to come in his pants like a teenager.

            Otabek pulled back for a second, trying to catch his breath.  Yuri reached for the zipper of his jeans and waited for a second, meeting Otabek’s eyes before the dark haired man nodded his approval.  He no longer hesitated as he undid Otabek’s jeans and pulled them down his legs, then doing the same to his own pants while Otabek struggled with his for a second trying to get them off and tossed on the floor.

            Finally left in nothing but their boxer briefs, Yuri didn’t even wait before hooking his fingers in his own underwear and tugging them off.  He didn’t miss the hitch in his partner’s breath at the sight of his naked body and he couldn’t help but smirk, trying to let his usual cocky attitude cover any insecurities he had about himself in that moment.  The flaring of Otabek’s nostrils in response was enough to let him know that it had worked.

            “Your turn,” he nodded at Otabek, who hesitated for only a brief second before tearing off his own underwear.

            Yuri couldn’t help himself from licking his lips at the sight of Otabek’s very attractive and very naked form.  They caught each other’s eyes and Otabek reached down and gave himself a few shameless pumps of his thick, leaking cock and Yuri couldn’t stop the wanting noise that came from his throat. 

            Yuri took a minute to appreciate every muscle and nuance of his body, acting on impulse to lean forward and start running his hands over every inch of skin he could possibly touch.  He was overcome with such a strong feeling of want and lust, that he found himself unable to keep his hands to himself, exploring and mapping out the body of his best friend turned boyfriend.  He couldn’t help but think to himself how amazing it was that two people could know each other for so long and be as close as they were, and yet still know so little about each other’s physical forms until now.

            Finally, he allowed his hand to wander between Otabek’s legs, watching for his reaction as he gently grasped his throbbing cock.  Brown eyes rolled back in pleasure at Yuri’s touch, and after he let out a pleased groan, Yuri took that as his invitation to continue.

            He experimented for a minute, getting used to the weight of it in his hand and feel of smooth skin as he ran his hand up and down the shaft and over the sensitive head.  After a few teasing flicks of his wrist, Yuri lowered himself down until his face was level with Otabek’s dick.  Otabek might have said something, but he ignored it as he stuck out his tongue and gave the head a small, kitten-like lick.  This wasn’t his first time giving a blow job or even having sex, but Yuri was suddenly overcome with the nervousness of someone entirely new to physical intimacy, probably just because it was _Otabek_ , the best friend he had loved and admired for so damn long.  Beka wasn’t like all of the dumb hockey players he was used to fucking.  He was the most important person in Yuri’s life, and because of that he suddenly felt a great pressure to make sure this was the best sex of both their lives.

            “ _Yura_ ,” Otabek whined above him, reaching down to run his fingers through Yuri’s blonde hair.

            At that, Yuri allowed himself to finally go down on Otabek in earnest, like he’d been dreaming about for some time now.  He gave a few long licks up the sides and bottom of the shaft, before taking it in his mouth as far as he could go.  Otabek’s cock was certainly quite large, and so he wasn’t quite able to get all of it in his mouth before he started to gag.  “Easy,” he heard Otabek murmur as he continued to pet and stroke the side of Yuri’s face.

            Yuri, of course, ignored him because that was what he always did.  He took Otabek in his mouth again, as far as he could comfortably take him, and then hollowed out his cheeks as he began bobbing his head up and down.  The cry that came from above him only encouraged him, and he used his hand to stroke the rest of the base that he was unable to take in his mouth.  His knee was giving him some mild discomfort from his position on all fours in front of Otabek, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and concentrated on pleasuring Otabek instead.  Just as he finally got a rhythm going and was mentally prepared to let Otabek come in his mouth, his partner suddenly yanked him back by the roots of his hair and pulled Yuri off his cock with a wet ‘pop’.

            “Yura, keep this up and I’m not going to last.  Please...”

            In understanding, Yuri nodded and leaned backwards until he was lying on his back with his head situated comfortably in the pillows.  Otabek disappeared for a second to lean over and grab something out of the bedside table before reappearing with a pack of condoms and small bottle of lube.

            Yuri found himself all but panting in anticipation as Otabek went to work opening the bottle and squeezing a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers, rubbing the slick substance back and forth until his fingers were completely coated in it.

            With a light smack to Yuri’s thigh, the blonde lifted his legs and rested them on Otabek’s shoulders.  “Your knee okay this way?” He asked, and Yuri nodded.

            “Hurry up and fuck me, Beka.  I’ve waited long enough,” Yuri growled, although neither of them were sure if he was referring to this moment in particular, or the years of pining they had done for each other.

            Otabek paused for a moment to plant a feather-light kiss to one of the scars on Yuri’s knee before leaning forward to insert a single finger into his entrance.  The groan Yuri let out at the feeling was enough to make Otabek’s mind cloud with lust as he set to work stretching and prepping Yuri.  By the time he added a third finger, he’d hooked his fingers in just the right way that found Yuri’s prostate, causing the man beneath him to howl in pleasure.

            “FUCK!  Beka, just…just fucking fuck me already,” Yuri whined.

            Otabek had to chuckle at that.  “Eloquent as always, Plisetsky,” he laughed as he leaned back for a minute to roll the condom on and lube his cock up.  Part of him wanted to draw it out into a long, teasing show, just to get back at Yuri for all of the times he had been a little shit thus far in their relationship.  But if Otabek was being honest, he was every bit as eager to be inside of Yuri already, as Yuri was to move on to that part.

            Finally, Otabek lined himself up with Yuri’s hole and pushed his dick in as far as Yuri could take him.  They both threw their heads back at the new feeling of each other, not even trying to hold back their cries of pleasure anymore.  Otabek bottomed out and then held still, waiting for Yuri to give him the okay to start moving, although he admitted it was one of the hardest things he had ever done to not just start mercilessly pounding into the other man right then and there.

            Yuri began to wiggle underneath him after what felt like an eternity and uttered a single command. “Go.”

            And so Otabek rocked back until he was almost completely pulled out before slamming back into Yuri.  He repeated this motion over and over again until he was pounding into Yuri at a harsh pace.  The Russian clearly loved it though as he mewled underneath him, eventually moving his legs so that they were wrapped around his waist and therefore putting Yuri in a position where he could cling to Otabek’s shoulders.  When Otabek hit a particularly sensitive spot that caused Yuri to see stars, he made sure to leave long scratch marks down his partner’s back as he practically screamed his pleasure.  Otabek made sure to leave bite marks along his neck and shoulders in retaliation each time.

            At some point, Otabek noted that Yuri’s cock was going woefully unattended to, and so reached down between them to begin pumping it time with his thrusting.  Yuri was chanting his name by now along to the rhythm, “Beka, Beka, Beka--!” and listening to his own name groaned on the lips of his lover was one of the damn sexiest things Otabek had ever heard.

            “Fuck, Yura, you feel incredible,” Otabek was panting heavily at this point, the physical exertion starting to tire him out.

            It all felt too soon before Yuri was whining, warning him, “Beka, I’m about to come.”

            “So come, baby,” Otabek whispered in his ear, licking a long line up Yuri’s neck to emphasize his point.

            Yuri wasn’t sure if it was the new pet name, the pleasure, or just because biologically-speaking he was going to have to come eventually, but he released with a loud cry, screaming “Beka!” one last time as his orgasm sent shockwaves through his body.

            Otabek followed quickly after, his thrusts slowing down and becoming more erratic until he came with a loud grunt.  With that, two collapsed in a pile of sweaty, naked limbs, reveling in the aftermath of post-orgasm bliss while they tried to regain control of their breathing.

            “Yura, that was amazing,” Otabek smiled, turning on his side so that he was facing Yuri.

            Much to his shock, tears were streaming out of the green soldier’s eyes he had come to love so, so much.  Panicking, Otabek sat up and scooped Yuri up into his arms, murmuring apologies for what, he had no idea, he was just so upset that he might have done something to make Yuri cry that all rational thinking had gone out the door.

            “Oh my God, asshole.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  I was just overwhelmed.  I do this sometimes during sex,” Yuri half-heartedly smacked at Otabek’s shoulder, but also buried his face into his chest, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing. “You know, emotions and all of that shit.”

            A wave of relief crashed over Otabek and he allowed Yuri the privacy of hiding his face until the tears subsided.  Otabek knew how much crying in front of anybody was Yuri’s idea of his own personal hell, so he just sat there and held him, gently stroking his hair and humming a nonsensical tune until he could feel Yuri physically relax into the touch.

            “Thanks, Beka.  You’re pretty fucking amazing, you know that?” Yuri laughed, finally looking up to place a chaste kiss to Otabek’s lips.

            “You’re not half bad yourself,” Otabek teased, earning him another smack from Yuri.

            “Whatever.  Shut up and go get us a washcloth or something to clean up with,” Yuri rolled his eyes and pushed Otabek away, who was still laughing as he got up to do as Yuri said.

            Once they were cleaned up and Otabek had gotten back under the covers, Yuri wrapped himself around his partner and sighed contently into the cuddle.  He was in that state of fucked-out bliss that was only achieved after fantastic sex and a hard orgasm, and he officially had no intention of moving again until morning.  He told Otabek this, and he laughed again, saying he had never taken Yuri for a post-sex cuddler.

            “It’s surprising what you find out about someone when you actually have sex with them,” Yuri sneered, but his heart wasn’t in it and he was lacking his usual venom when it came to sassing Otabek.  He was too tired to care at this point.

            It wasn’t long before Yuri was mumbling a quiet “Love you, Beka,” before drifting off into a deep sleep.  Otabek smiled and responded in kind before falling asleep as well.

 

* * *

 

 

            The next morning, Otabek found himself unable to move as a very much still unconscious Yuri had somehow managed to wrap himself around Otabek like a barnacle that would not come off.  He shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable without waking up Yuri, but he failed in his mission when he heard a soft, “Beka--?  What time is it?”

            “Sorry,” Otabek replied, placing a soft kiss on the crown of Yuri’s head. “Go back to sleep.”

            “Mmph, that wasn’t my question,” Yuri yawned before sitting up, finally disentangling himself from Otabek.  “Whatever, I’m up now.  You’re off today, right?”

            Otabek sank farther into the pillows.  Yes, it was his day off, but unlike Yuri he just wanted to spend the whole day asleep and cuddling.  When he whined and told Yuri this, the blonde smiled but poked him, saying “Come on, let’s go for a ride on the bike and maybe get breakfast somewhere.”

            Accepting that he was not going to get any more sleep, Otabek sighed and agreed, pushing himself up and off the mattress before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.  He was still exhausted and ended up just sort of leaning his head against the tile while the hot water ran down, so he was startled when the curtain opened and Yuri slid in to the shower with him.

            “You’re taking too damn long,” Yuri stated matter-of-factly, before reaching around Otabek for the body wash. 

            Yuri could tell that Otabek was still half-asleep, so he set to work on washing him first, taking extra care to massage his tight shoulder muscles as he did so. “Jesus, no wonder your flexibility is such shit,” Yuri mumbled. “You’re stiff as a board.  Don’t you ever stretch or do yoga?”

            “Hm,” Otabek hummed in response.  He was not a morning person, Yuri was coming to realize, and he found that oddly adorable given that as professional athletes, they almost always had to be up before the sun in order to get to practice.  He wasn’t sure how Otabek had made it this far into his career and not learned to be more of a morning person, but then again he couldn’t remember a time when Otabek didn’t have a giant cup of coffee in hand when he left for practice, so maybe it made sense after all.

            Shrugging, Yuri grabbed the shampoo and started massaging it into Otabek’s scalp.  He was pleasantly surprised to hear the contented moan that came from Otabek at that, so he made a mental note that Otabek was clearly into having his hair played with.  One more of many things Yuri was excited about exploring with the man as their relationship went on.

            Once Yuri had washed himself, the water was starting to run cold, so he reached over and turned the water off.  Otabek whined at the sudden cold air hitting his wet skin, and Yuri just sighed and handed him his towel. “How do you function on your own?”

            “I do just fine, thank you.  You’re just impatient and want to get going too early,” Otabek retorted, grabbing his towel wiping himself down as he made his way back to the bedroom to get dressed.

            By the time Otabek had remerged from the bedroom, Yuri was fully dressed and waiting by the door, bike helmets in hand.  It was cute how eager he was to get going, and Otabek had to smile as he took his helmet from Yuri and placed a gentled kiss to his forehead.  “How’s your knee this morning?  I didn’t do anything to hurt you last night, did I?”

            Green eyes rolled dramatically at that, but Yuri couldn’t stop the blush as memories of the previous night flooded into his mind. “I would have told you if I was hurting.  I’m fine, though.”

            Otabek nodded his understanding and gave Yuri a sweet but sensual kiss on the lips before leaning over to grab the keys from their place hanging on a hook near the door.

They headed out the door and down to the parking garage where the bike was parked.  He’d barely gotten the engine turned over before Yuri was sitting behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and chin resting on Otabek’s shoulder. 

            “Where to?” Yuri asked over the roar of the engine as Otabek shifted into gear and drove the bike out of the garage and down the main road.

            “I know a great little café that you might like.  Great pastries and coffee.” Otabek called back over his shoulder.

            “Sounds great,” Yuri responded, and buried his face in Otabek’s back, taking in the smell of leather and Otabek.  What he didn’t say out loud was, _I’d would go anywhere so long as it was with you._

            About twenty minute later, Otabek pulled into a parking spot on the street and nudged Yuri to let him know that they’d arrived. 

            As they were walking into the small but crowded café, a thought suddenly hit Yuri.  He realized that this was more or less their first actual date since they had established their feelings for each other a couple of weeks prior.  Yuri suddenly felt a wave of anxiety crash over him and tried to mentally count backwards from ten like he often saw Katsudon do when he was trying to combat one of his anxiety attacks. 

            Otabek must have sensed his nervousness because he felt a warm hand clasping his suddenly, and a soft murmur of, “Yura, breathe.  We’re just getting breakfast, nothing we haven’t done before.” And with that, Yuri felt a small amount of the anxiety leave his body.  He still wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it though, since this wasn’t just breakfast anymore, but a breakfast date with his boyfriend.

            True to his word, Otabek ordered them each a coffee and a pastry, and Yuri couldn’t help but take a picture of Otabek smiling over his cup of coffee and upload it to Instagram.  He tried to keep the caption vague by simply saying “@otabek-altin is showing me around Almaty and we got breakfast at this great little café!  #coffee #almatyadventures #yuritakesalmaty #figureskatersoffice” and tried to leave it at that.  Of course, the comments immediately blew up with speculations, but he figured it didn’t matter at this point. 

            His phone buzzed a couple of times with new text messages, and he tried to ignore them.  He was surprised when one came from JJ, even if it said _Congrats, kitten!_ With a thumbs up emoji, so he ignored it.  Mila sent him a series of texts that were just inappropriate emoji innuendos.  For a second, Yuri hesitated on responding to her, but he really did want to tell someone how excited he was that he and Otabek had _finally_ had sex, but didn’t want to get into it with Otabek sitting right across from him.  So he sent Mila an eggplant emoji and the smiling devil face emoji, with another message that said _I’ll call you later._

            Mila just responded with a smiling cat face emoji and a series of exclamation points.

            Once done with their breakfast, they decided to wander around the area a little bit, ducking into shops that caught their interest and doing some sightseeing so Otabek could show Yuri some of his favorite places in Almaty.  Yuri of course took lots of pictures and posted lots of videos and images to Snapchat. 

            Several hours later, when it was approaching lunch time, Yuri heard his phone going off while he and Otabek were perusing some clothes in a small boutique.  Confused, he looked down to see the name ‘Katsudon’ flashing on his screen to indicate the incoming call.  They had been texting back and forth some about Almaty and how things were generally going, but nothing important enough that warranted an actual call.  He showed the screen to Otabek and indicated he was going to move towards the bathroom so that he could have a more private conversation.  Otabek nodded and hung back while Yuri walked away, checking out some jeans that were on display.

            “What do you want, pig?” Yuri gave his version of a greeting as he hit the ‘answer’ button while he walked into the single person bathroom.

            “Hey, Yurio, is this a bad time?” Katsuki sounded nervous, but Yuri was pretty sure that was just his natural state.

            “A little, yeah.  I can spare a minute though,” Yuri was approaching this cautiously, as he did not have a great feeling about where this conversation was going.

            He heard shuffling on the other end followed by a door clicking shut, so Katsuki must have moved into a more private room in order to speak with him as well.  That was not a good sign.

            “So remember how we said if any more publicity got out about you and Otabek, then we’d have a talk about it?”

            “Yes…?” Yuri replied, feeling his stomach sink.

            “Well, there were more pictures of the two of you released a couple of nights ago.  More of you with Otabek at one of his DJ gigs, and another this morning of the two of walking around Almaty holding hands…”  
            “The fuck?  That last one must have been from the last couple of hours!” Yuri was definitely starting to panic now.

            He flopped back against the fake wooden door with a loud ‘thud’ and was only half-hearing what Kastuki was saying to him.

            “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Katsuki sighed. “Look, the point is we might need to address this now with the media.  Rumors are going rampant and a couple of sponsors have already threatened to pull out for next season.  Frankly, Viktor and I don’t care what position you decide to take on this, but we need you to make some kind official statement one way or another.”

            “Shit,” Yuri groaned. “This is so new.  I’m afraid to talk about it with Beka, but—“  
            “Yurio,” Yuuri cut him off. “Be a fucking adult about this and talk to him.  Then call me when you get your shit together and we’ll decide what to do from there.”

            When Yuri heard the familiar beep indicating that the line had gone dead, he stared at his phone in silent shock, a million thoughts running through his head at once.  He was almost positive that knew exactly where he and Otabek stood, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to having a conversation about this.  Yuri was shit with anything involving emotions, and Otabek was hardly skilled in verbally expressing himself most of the time either.  Hell, he realized that they hadn’t even talked about the fact that they had sex for the first time last night, and now he was expected to force Otabek to make some kind public announcement with him about where their relationship stood?  That seemed unusually cruel to a couple that still hadn’t quite worked it out between themselves yet.

            _Fuck, we make quite the pair_ Yuri couldn’t help but think caustically to himself.

            Sighing, he leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor of the bathroom, burying his face in his hands.

            “Fuck,” he groaned.  Because despite everything and how happy he was with Otabek, this was something he had hoped to keep to themselves just a little longer—before the public knew about it and both the media and their fans decided to butt into their business and put any unnecessary stress on their relationship that normal couples didn’t have to deal with.

            With that, he stood up again, took a deep breath, and walked back out the door towards his lover.

           


	7. Too Good To Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god everyone. I am SO. SORRY. I never planned to take a three month hiatus from this, I swear! Life has been...well, life. Those of you that know me know things have been crazy and honestly, my frame of mind is different now than it was when I started this fic, so it's been harder for me to get back into writing this. BUT I am determined to see this through to the end, I promise!
> 
> Currently, I have two more chapters planned for this, plus an epilogue of sorts, so about 10 chapters total. That being said, I've always been shit at sticking to my plans, so we'll see.
> 
> I'm aware of how much room there is for improvement with this chapter, but I've been working on it for three weeks and frankly don't want to look much at it anymore lol. BUT IT'S OVER 7,000 WORDS THIS TIME SO I HOPE THAT MAKES UP FOR MY PROCRASTINATION, FAM!
> 
> Special thanks to [softieghost](http://archiveofourown.org/users/softieghost/pseuds/softieghost) for beta work! Much appreciated!
> 
> ALSO DISCLAIMER: DO NOT USE ANYTHING AS LUBE THAT IS NOT ACTUALLY LUBE. This is just a silly fanfic. DO NOT TAKE THIS AT FACE VALUE FOR ANY KIND OF REDEEMING QUALITY OF SEX ED. THAT IS ALL.

            Yuri’s stomach was swimming by the time he left the bathroom.  So much was happening at once that he wasn’t sure where to begin sorting out his thoughts as he made his way over to where Otabek was still looking at clothes.  Otabek must have seen the conflicted look on Yuri’s face because he immediately stopped what he was doing to walk over and push that stubborn lock of hair that always fell in his face out of his eyes.

            “Is everything okay, Yura?” Otabek’s voice was soft, like when he was trying to approach a frightened animal.

            Yuri tried to force a smile on his face.  He figured standing in the middle of a boutique was not the place to have the conversation about what was going on, so instead he leaned in for a quick peck on the lips and said. “I’m just getting tired.  I think I’m ready to head back.”

            Otabek nodded and without another word, led Yuri back to where they had parked the motorcycle.  The noise of the bike drowned out any possibility of conversation on the way back, Yuri clinging tightly to Otabek while he buried his face between his boyfriend’s broad shoulders.  If his breath was a little shaky, it was definitely not because he was trying to hold back frustrated tears.  All the time spent in silence did was force Yuri to continually panic over the conversation that was looming ahead like a dark cloud.  He allowed himself to get so lost in his head as he psyched himself up, that it took Otabek announcing “We’re home,” to pull him back to reality.

            Yuri felt like he was in a bit of a daze as he followed Otabek back up to the apartment with the things they bought earlier, his mind racing in a million different directions.  He knew this was a conversation that they were going to need to have eventually, but he was a combination of frustrated, angry, and betrayed by his fans that caused the situation to need to be addressed sooner rather than later.  Apparently having Otabek to himself for a month or two was too much to ask for.

            “Hey,” Otabek nudged Yuri, who realized that he had been standing in the entryway and staring blankly ahead at the wall. “Yura, what’s going on?”

            He shrugged, trying to brush off Otabek’s question.  “Sorry, just a little distracted today for some reason.”

            Part of Yuri felt bad for blatantly lying to his boyfriend.  But an even bigger part of him knew how much he was dreading having this conversation.  Nothing felt more terrifying at that moment than having the discussion about where their relationship was going, and he just hoped Otabek understood enough to give him a little bit of space to work things out for himself first.

            Otabek nodded, although the look on his face clearly showed that he was not buying that excuse.

            “Anyway, I promised Mila that I’d give her a call since we haven’t talked in awhile.  Do you mind if I go to the rooftop or something?” Yuri felt a little awkward asking for privacy from Otabek in his own home.

            “I actually have to run to the grocery store, so feel free to stay here while I’m gone.”

            Yuri smiled finally, the relief immediate.  He appreciated the excuse Otabek was making up to give Yuri some privacy.  “Thanks, Beka.”

            “Of course,” Otabek returned the smile, leaning in to give Yuri a quick kiss before grabbing the keys to the SUV and turning toward the door. “Tell Mila I say hi!”

            As soon as Yuri was sure that Otabek’s footsteps had disappeared down the hallway towards the elevators, Yuri was hitting Mila’s name in his “favorites” list.

            “Details.  Now,” Mila snapped by way of greeting.

            “Fuck you, Baba,” Yuri snarled in response.  “We fucked.  That’s all you need to know.”

            The whine that came from the other end of the line would have sounded pathetic if he didn’t know her so well. “You are the actual worst, you know that?”  Mila wasn’t fooling Yuri.  She wasn’t offended at all, just nosy as fuck.

            “Whatever,” he sighed, throwing himself down on the couch.

            A few moments of absolute silence followed.  Then, Mila spoke up, “You two really know how to make the headlines these days.”

            Yuri groaned, rolling over and trying to bury his face in the throw pillow on Otabek’s couch, hoping maybe he could accidentally smother himself. “Don’t remind me.  Why do Beka and I get all of this attention and not you and Sara?  You two have been together longer and she has that creepy twin brother that won’t leave her alone.  Way more newsworthy.”

            “Because unlike your Angels, our fans are sane human beings,” Mila’s voice had a sing-song lilt to it. “Also, the two of you are trending on Twitter.  Again.”

            “Jesus fucking Christ,” Yuri buried his face farther into the pillow.  He really needed it to smother him right now.

            Mila sighed, then continued on, slightly more sympathetic, “You’re going to have to do something, Yurachka.  Poor Vitya is doing all he can, and he can’t afford to lose any more hair.”

            “That is so true,” Yuri couldn’t help but let out a soft little laugh at that.

A moment of silence and then Yuri whispered quietly into the phone, “Fuck, Baba, it was the best sex of my life.”

            He immediately regretted telling Mila this because he could _hear_ how happy she was.

            “Oh, Yurachka,” she cried, “It’s because you love him.  You’ve never loved any of those dumb jocks you’ve fucked in the past.  It makes all the difference.”

            He groaned, but decided not to push the subject.  When Mila got on one of these tangents they tended to get—intense, he figured was the right word for it.  That being said, he knew she was right.  Otabek was not all of the dumb hockey jocks of his past.  Then again, who knew what was going to happen now that the vultures had descended?  He wished he could tell Mila just how terrified he was to talk about it, but knew she would only reiterate Katsuki’s earlier words of “be a fucking adult” so he decided not to mention it.

            After that, they chatted back and forth for a bit about nothing of particular depth, just to lighten the mood and get back to their usual banter.  By the time Yuri heard the key turn in the lock of the front door, he bid Mila farewell and hung up.  Whether he felt any better or not after the conversation remained to be seen.

            Otabek reappeared with a couple of bags of groceries, and Yuri walked over to help him start putting things away.  They both remained silent, the awkward air blanketing them and making Yuri so anxious to break it that he could almost feel himself vibrating.

            Thankfully, Otabek took the initiative to speak up.  “What’s really going on, Yura?  You’ve been acting weird since you took that phone call from Katsuki.”

            Yuri didn’t answer right away, and instead busied himself organizing fruit in the bowl Otabek kept on his kitchen counter.  When he couldn’t possibly do that anymore, he bit his lip and grabbed the edge of the counter, gathering his courage.  He finally told Otabek, “We’re in the news again.  Someone took photos of us walking around in Almaty this morning.  Baldy and Katusdon say we have to make a statement now because they can’t keep fending off the press forever.”

            By the end of it, his hands were shaking and he was forcing himself to take deep, steady breaths.  He _knew_ Otabek was going to want to end it right then and there, that he wasn’t ready to come out publically, no matter how much his heart was telling him _that’s not true.  Otabek won’t leave you over this._

            He must have let out a choked sob without realizing it, because next thing he knew, Otabek had his arms wrapped tightly around Yuri, and Yuri was wondering why the front of Otabek’s shirt was so wet.  It wasn’t until he went to wipe at his face that he realized he was crying. “Fuck!”

            “Yura, hey, it’s okay,” Otabek was doing his best to soothe Yuri. “We’ll figure it out.”

            “No, it’s not!” Yuri shot back, pushing himself away from Otabek and stomping over to the kitchen sink to splash some cold water on his face.

            Otabek said nothing for a minute, and just let Yuri storm around the kitchen.  When the blonde finally stopped and threw himself on the couch, Otabek walked over and took a seat next to him.  Afraid to touch Yuri, just like a stray cat that finally got close enough to let him touch but would bolt if he tried, Otabek simply sat there with his thigh pressed up against Yuri’s, hoping he would get the hint that Otabek wanted to reach out but just didn’t know how to at that exact moment.

            Yuri was able to regain his composure and make his breathing steadier and controlled.  He sat up and faced Otabek, angrily wiping the tears from his eyes.  When he started speaking, it was so quiet at first that Otabek wasn’t entirely sure he had heard him.  But after listening closely, it all finally clicked for the Kazakh.

            “Beka, I don’t know what to do.  This is all so new and what we have going for us is great and I’m not ready to burst that bubble!” Yuri’s voice was barely above a whisper, but at least it wasn’t threatening to crack like it had earlier.

            That was when Otabek took his cue to reach out and cup Yuri’s chin with his hand. “Yura, listen to me.”

            Yuri did not move away, but refused to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

            “Everything is going to be fine.  I am happy to do whatever you want to do regarding the press.  But please know that us coming out could never change how I feel about you.  So, if you think we should tell the world, let’s do it.  If not, we can keep this to ourselves for as long as we can.  But you know what vultures the press are.  My only comment is that it might be better to face this head on, rather than letting the rumors spin out of control.”

            Yuri was silent for a minute, biting his lower lip again, which Otabek was starting to recognize as a nervous habit of the blonde’s.  Otabek brushed a stray lock of hair behind his boyfriend’s ear, placing a soft kiss on his temple while he waited for Yuri to speak.

            After what felt like forever, but also too soon somehow simultaneously, Yuri finally spoke up.  His voice was soft and wavering, clearly unsure of what he was saying. “I think…I think you’re right.  To be honest Beka, I’m scared.  I’m so scared how people will react and that this is going to change everything about our relationship.  But I think we should just go ahead and make an announcement that we’re together.  Katsudon and Viktor have been fighting the media off long enough and it’s not fair to them.  This is our battle to fight, not theirs.”

            Otabek nodded and pulled Yuri into a tight embrace, making sure Yuri felt his support through every fiber of his being.  “How do you want to announce it?”

            The smirk that graced Yuri’s face made Otabek’s heart flutter a little, knowing that meant Yuri was feeling just a touch closer to his old self again. “I have an idea.”

            The result was a new photo uploaded to both Instagram and Twitter.  Yuri took a shot of the two of them locked in a deep kiss, his blonde hair falling over his shoulders but making sure that enough of his face was visible that there would be no mistake that Yuri himself was in the picture.  He captioned it:

            _The rumors are true. @otabek-altin and I are together.  I guess it’s too much to ask for our privacy and that our fans respect that, since it was your shitty paparazzi photos that forced us to come out, so to speak.  All I’m going to say is that we are happy and not breaking up any time soon, so there’s your juicy gossip for the week. I even went through the effort to give you an official couples’ name for us in the tags.  You’re welcome.  #friendstolovers #boyfriend #otabek altin #yuri plisetsky #otayuri_

            Otabek followed suit on his own social media accounts so that there would be no question as to whether it was real or not.

            It was all of a minute before the notifications started flooding in.  Both Yuri’s and Otabek’s phones were in a state of constant buzzing, so they agreed to shut their phones off until morning and take a break from thinking about the stress of the day.  What little Yuri had bothered to check of the comments seemed surprisingly positive, but he refused to dwell on it any further.  All he cared about was being with Otabek and enjoying their time together, hopefully without it all imploding come morning.

            Several hours later found the two cuddling on the couch, watching one of the shitty Sharknado movies on the large flat screen over Otabek’s fireplace.  Although they were about halfway through it, Yuri had long ago lost interest and was instead playing with Otabek’s hair and occasionally would place a soft kiss to his neck.  Without his phone to entertain him, Yuri was thoroughly bored and he was hoping that his teasing touches and soft kisses would ultimately arouse Otabek enough that they could have a repeat of the previous night.

            “Yura,” Otabek let out a warning growl as Yuri pretended to innocently brush his hand along the inside of Otabek’s thigh.

            “Hmm?” the blonde hummed, trying to hide his smirk as he felt Otabek squirm in attempt to escape his boyfriend’s hands.

            Otabek exhaled through his nose, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV.  Yuri pouted at that and began to nuzzle into the nape of Otabek’s neck, making sure to let his hand linger teasingly over Otabek’s now stiffening cock.

            “Bekaaaa,” Yuri whined. “This movie sucks.  Let’s do something else.”

            Otabek hummed but did not try to pull away from Yuri this time.  Taking this as a small victory, Yuri began to rub at Otabek’s dick more insistently over his pants, silently pleased when he felt Otabek’s breathing speed up a little bit.

            Yuri continued to rub and even let his hand wander to the waistband of Otabek’s jeans, teasing but not yet daring to dip down below.  Otabek let out a frustrated growl and flipped Yuri over so that the blonde was pinned beneath him.  A contented groan escaped Yuri’s lips as Otabek ground his now very hard cock against Yuri’s rapidly thickening one.

            “Damn it, Yura,” Otabek was growling in his ear. “You’re a little shit and impossible to resist, you know that?”

            “Maybe.  You love me though,” he teased back, rolling his hips up to meet Otabek’s.

            “Hmm,” Otabek replied, already rucking Yuri’s shirt up and yanking it over his head.  That was all the encouragement Yuri needed and the two of them were suddenly tearing at each other’s clothes until they were both naked on the couch.

            Yuri reached between the two of them and grabbed their cocks so that they were rubbing together, earning him a sharp gasp from the man above him.

            As Otabek fucked himself into Yuri’s hand, Yuri had an idea that he wanted to try.  He just hoped Otabek would be on board with it.

            “Beka?” He gasped, wriggling as Otabek thrust into him particularly hard.

            “Yeah?” He was honestly surprised Otabek could still speak at this point.

            “Can I try fucking you tonight?” Yuri spit the request out faster than he meant to, hoping Otabek would get the hint that he was nervous.

            Otabek’s grinding stuttered for a beat before he looked up at Yuri, brown eyes locking with green. For a second, he was unsure what the response was going to be, but Otabek broke into a mischievous smirk at that. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

            Immediately, Yuri returned that grin. “Great.  So, you want to do this out here or…?”

            “Lube’s in the bedroom,” Otabek gave by way of answer.

            That was all the answer Yuri needed before he grabbed Otabek’s hand and dragged him down the hall.

            Once in the bedroom, Yuri threw Otabek down on the bed while he climbed his way over to grab the lube from the nightstand.

            Otabek wasted no time in latching onto one of Yuri’s nipples as the blonde squeezed a generous amount of lube into his hand and began coating his fingers.  He went to kneel over Otabek to start fingering him when he let out a sharp yelp of pain, forgetting once again that he should not be putting all of his weight on his knee.

            “Hey, baby,” Otabek murmured, cupping Yuri’s face before throwing his weight into him and flipping them over so that he was on top of Yuri. “Easy, don’t hurt yourself.  We can do it this way so you keep your weight off your knee.”

            Yuri grumbled about Otabek being a sap, before pulling him down into another deep kiss.  The result was instant as his boyfriend melted into the kiss and began grinding their erections together while Yuri took his time stretching him open.  By the time a third finger was added, Otabek was a whining, whimpering mess.  Yuri had to smirk at that, the knowledge that he could take his boyfriend apart with just his fingers was going straight to his head, as well as his cock.  

Satisfied that Otabek was thoroughly prepared and stretched, Yuri went to go line his cock up with his lover’s hole.  He then felt Otabek smack his hand away before grabbing Yuri’s cock and sinking himself down right onto it.

            “Fuck, Yura!” Otabek cried out, taking Yuri a bit by surprise with how loud he was being. “You feel so amazing!”

            Yuri groaned and wiggled his hips ever so slightly, cautiously settling into a more comfortable position while he gave Otabek a minute to adjust.  With a nod from his boyfriend, Yuri rolled his hips, loving the absolutely filthy groan that escaped Otabek’s lips with that movement.  As he felt the Kazakh rise up slightly and suddenly dropped back down on Yuri’s dick, he knew he was done for.  While Yuri had almost exclusively bottomed throughout his sex life, there was something amazing about knowing what pleasure he could bring his lover that drove him mad whenever he did choose to top.  And right now, nothing was going to stop him from pounding upwards and into his boyfriend’s eager hole.

            Which is exactly what he did.  With every upward thrust of his hips, Otabek would meet him as he slammed down onto Yuri’s cock.  They continued that for a few minutes until Yuri noticed the beads of precome slowly leaking from the tip of Otabek’s cock, and without even having to be asked, Yuri leaned forward to grab hold of it and start stroking his boyfriend in time with their thrusts.

            Neither cared if the neighbors could hear them, so they both cried out and made sure to be as vocal as possible, almost as if in a contest to see who could scream the loudest by the time they were done.  It wasn’t long before Yuri could feel that blessed heat pooling below his navel, barely able to garble a warning as Otabek rode him, coming to a stop and clenching around his cock, refusing to let Yuri pull out while he came.  It only took a few more strokes before Otabek followed suit, painting Yuri’s stomach and chest with his come.

            With a groan, Otabek rolled off of Yuri, turning on his side and running his fingers through those beautiful blonde locks while he took a minute to catch his breath. “You didn’t cry this time,” he pointed out.

            Yuri let out an indignant squawk before burying his face in Otabek’s chest. “Fuck you.”

            “Pretty sure I just did,” Otabek deadpanned.

            The whine Yuri let out was enough to make Otabek break out into laughter as he placed a gentle kiss on the crown of his boyfriend’s head.

            “Whatever, asshole,” Yuri grumbled, but silently preened as Otabek pulled his face back up to meet him and began to pepper the Russian’s face with kisses over every inch of skin he could reach from that position.

            Thankfully it only took them a few minutes to catch their breath again, another perk of being a professional athlete, Yuri figured.

            “Think you’d be up for another round?” Yuri smirked, already dragging his hand down Otabek’s chest and back towards his crotch.

            “Oh, fuck yes,” Otabek whined.

            Yuri pounced on Otabek at that and fell into a fit of laughter as Otabek smacked his ass.

 

* * *

 

 

            The next morning, Yuri awoke to the sunlight glaring into his eyes.  He mumbled a few swears and rolled over, burying his face into a sleeping Otabek’s chest.  He tried to go back to sleep, but the hand running through his hair indicated that his partner was awake.

“Morning,” Otabek murmured, placing a soft kiss to the crown of Yuri’s head.

          “Mmph,” Yuri replied, for once understanding Otabek’s lack of desire to be a morning person.

            “You have physical therapy today?” Otabek asked.

            “Yeah, but fuck it.  Don’t you have practice?”

            A pause and then, “Fuck it.”

            Yuri snorted and looked up at Otabek, kissing his nose.  Otabek made a face and said “Ugh, morning breath, Plisetsky!”

            That earned him a light smack to the chest, but Yuri made no attempt to get up.  They laid there for what could only have been a few minutes before something clicked in the back of Yuri’s mind.

            “Fuck, Beka, what’s the date?” he cried, suddenly awake and scrambling to find his phone.  

            Realizing his phone had been off since the previous night, he turned it on and braced himself for the onslaught of notifications he had ignored.  Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as he had feared, given that he turned off notifications for almost all of his social media accounts.  He did have a few missed calls from Viktor, JJ, Mila, and even Yakov, as well as a smattering of texts from the other skaters, but otherwise the response was less than he had feared.  In fact, the response was so overwhelmingly positive, when he grazed through the comments on Instagram and the Tweets being sent out that he almost had to sit down for a minute to compose himself.

            “Everything alright?” Otabek asked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Yuri’s shoulders.  

            Yuri nodded and leaned back into Otabek’s warm chest, still in disbelief that people were actually happy for the two of them.

            Remembering why he had grabbed his phone in the first place, Yuri saw the date and felt his heart fall a little.  He knew his time in Almaty was limited, but the reminder just drove a stake through his chest once he realized that he only had a few days left with his boyfriend.

            “Yura?” Otabek kissed his shoulder, pulling him back to Earth.

            Yuri startled but turned around in Otabek’s arms so that they were facing each other.  “Yeah, sorry, babe.  Just realized my flight back to St. Petersburg is in a couple of days.”

            Seeing Otabek’s face fall hurt even more than his own realization a few seconds prior.  Their relationship was just finally reaching a good point, and it was devastating that he would be heading back to Russia soon.  Yuri didn’t want to think about the strain the distance was going to inevitably put on their relationship, but more than anything he didn’t want to think about going back to a daily routine without Otabek by his side.  It was probably unhealthy how quickly the two had grown dependent on each other, but Yuri didn’t want that to change now.  That thought alone was almost enough to make his heart shatter.

            A loud ringing broke the silent moment, Yuri throwing a slew of swears at his phone as he reached over to answer.  He didn’t even have to check the screen to know it was Viktor, so he just answered with a snarled, “What is it, baldy?”

            “Yurio!” he heard the older Russian huff indignantly from the other line. “You know how sensitive I am about my receding hairline!”

            “Whatever,” Yuri sighed, barely containing the eye roll he knew Otabek would scold him for.

            “Anyway, the reason I’m calling is about last night.  You should have consulted with me on the best way to announce your relationship.  That could have easily backfired!”

            Fuck holding back the eye roll, Yuri let it fly as he heard Otabek chuckle and get up to root around on the floor for some pants before making his way out to the kitchen, presumably to make coffee for the two of them.

            To nobody’s surprise, Viktor’s phone call was simultaneously a lecture for making his life harder while also praising Yuri for being brave and just telling everyone about his and Otabek’s relationship.  Yuri wasn’t convinced brave was the right word, so much as forced into the open about it thanks to his asshole fans, but the damage was done and he didn’t have it in him to fight with Viktor on that.  Especially since he was still sore and blissfully fucked out from the second and third round he and Otabek had gone for last night.

            “Are we done here?” Yuri snapped once he realized the conversation had gone on for almost a half hour by then.  Viktor twittered some more about Yuri’s comeback for next season but the younger Russian had reached his breaking point.  He barked out a “Dasvidaniya!” and ended the call before his coach could stop him.

            By the time Yuri made his way into the kitchen, clad in nothing more than one of Otabek’s t-shirts, he felt his heart stop at the sight.  Otabek was sitting at the kitchen table, shirtless, sweat pants riding dangerously low.  He was sipping a from a mug of coffee while browsing through the skating news sites on his iPad, glasses perched on the end of his nose.  It should have made him look like an old man, but instead it made all the blood in Yuri’s body pool straight in his cock.

            “Fuck, you look so hot like that,” Yuri groaned, sauntering over to the table and sitting in Otabek’s lap.

            Otabek let out a surprised noise but immediately let go of the coffee mug and iPad to wrap his arms around Yuri’s slender waist.  He chuckled softly as Yuri rolled his hips into Otabek’s, although he was unable to hide his already half-hard cock through the thin material of his sweatpants. “Last night wasn’t enough for you, kitten?”

            “Never,” Yuri teased, placing his mouth to Otabek’s neck as he set to work on leaving a sizeable hickey there. “At least I don’t have to worry about where I place these anymore.”

            “Mmm,” Otabek hummed, running his hands down Yuri’s sides and under the lone shirt he was wearing.  

            Yuri barely gave him any warning before reaching his hand into Otabek’s sweatpants and grasping his rapidly swelling cock, earning himself a needy groan from the older man.

            “Fucking hell, Yura, I’m about to bend you over the counter,” Otabek growled, bucking into Yuri’s hand and began to pump him.

            “Good,” Yuri replied, that sly smirk on his face. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”

            At that, Otabek stood up, making sure that he and Yuri stayed connected while he did so, before walking them over to the counter.  He wasted no time in turning Yuri around and pushing on his back so that his top half was lying on the granite, legs already spread and ass on full display, shamelessly showing off the fact he hadn’t bothered to put on any underwear beneath the shirt he had stolen from Otabek.  He wriggled that ass at Otabek, whining in the most pathetic, needy way he could managed.  The sight was single handedly one of the hottest things Otabek had ever seen in his life.

            “Beka,” Yuri whined, “Hurry up!”

            Noting that Yuri’s cock was already leaking and dripping onto the floor, Otabek groaned and began scrambling to find something that would work for lube.  He had left the bottle in the bedroom and was positive that Yuri would murder him if he left for even the ten seconds it would take to grab it, so against his better judgement, he reached for the jar of coconut oil sitting next to the stove.

            Yuri saw what Otabek was doing and tried to laugh at it, but that laugh turned into a moan as Otabek inserted an oil-covered finger into his hole.  The prep ended up being minimal, more so a few teasing brushes over the prostate, as Yuri was still fairly stretched out from their second and third rounds the previous night.  So, it was only a matter of Otabek dropping his pants and slicking up his cock before he pressed into Yuri.

            Scrambling for purchase on the granite countertop proved to be more difficult than Yuri expected, but found the edge and grabbed onto it tightly while Otabek began to pick up the pace.  It started slowly but continued to build, until he was snapping his hips harshly into his lover, skin slapping against skin obscenely and Yuri having some difficulty holding on to the edge of the counter.

            “Fuck, yes, Beka, right there!” Yuri cried, throwing his head back as Otabek quickly found his prostate and made sure to hit it with every thrust of his hips.

            On instinct, Otabek grabbed Yuri’s hair and pulled back, creating more leverage for himself as he fucked into his lover.  He was rewarded with a very pleased moan, Yuri lifting his head higher and giving Otabek better access to his neck as he felt the teasing of teeth biting gently at his nape.

He gave a few more thrusts before he felt Yuri’s walls tighten around him as his boyfriend released himself onto the kitchen cabinets and floors, letting out a strangled cry of “Beka!”

It was over too quickly after that, Otabek releasing with a grunt as he bit down on Yuri’s shoulder, barely able to keep himself from crying out.

            Now finished, Otabek collapsed on top of his boyfriend, both of them panting and trying to catch their breath.  Yuri muttered something about how the come was going to be a bitch to clean off from the cabinet, but Otabek merely grunted in response before pulling out and dragging Yuri down the hall and into the shower.

 

* * *

 

 

            In the end, Dalen was not okay with Otabek skipping practice that day, so the two of them found themselves down at the rink by noon.  Regardless of how much they wanted to stay home and fuck like rabbits until Yuri’s inevitable departure in a few days, Otabek still had to prepare for the Four Continents, and Yuri would never forgive himself if he knew he was at fault for compromising his lover’s performance in any way, shape, or form.

            Although he remained silent about it during practice, Yuri could tell that Dalen was silently fuming at their announcement of their relationship the previous night.  Yuri admitted that he felt a little guilty that they hadn’t included either of their coaches on the decision, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

            After a particularly hard training session that left Otabek leaning on the barrier of the rink for support while sweat dripped down his face and he breathed harder than he had during their nightly romps, Dalen finally released him from practice.  As Yuri began to walk back towards the locker room with Otabek, he heard Dalen snarl, “Wait a second, Plisetksy, I have a few words for you.”

            Yuri would be lying if he didn’t say he was actually fairly intimidated by Otabek’s coach.  The man was as stoic as Otabek, but often had a temper that reminded Yuri a little of Yakov.  The man rarely spoke other than to bark out what Otabek was doing wrong in his performance, and Yuri had a feeling that he was about to get ripped apart for outing his star pupil.

            “So, you and Otabek are together?” Dalen cut right to the chase once Otabek had disappeared down the hallway leading to the locker rooms.

            Yuri swallowed nervously and nodded.

            “And you are aware that he cannot afford to be distracted right now?  He finally has a chance to win Worlds now that you’re out for the season.  He’s always been too enamoured with you to skate to his full potential when you’re competing against each other.  It would be a shame if he threw that away for a piece of ass.”

            “Fuck you!” Yuri snapped before he could stop himself. “This isn’t about sex.  You know how long we’ve been close and how much we mean to each other.  Why is it such a surprise that we fucking love each other and want to be together?  And you think I don’t know I’m distracting him?  That’s why I’m going home in a few days, even though it’s breaking my heart to leave him here, especially since it’s not exactly like I have anything to look forward to right now back in Russia until my knee heals!”

            Dalen merely observed Yuri, whose fists were clenched and arms shaking as it was clearly taking everything within himself not to throw a punch at the coach.  He nodded solemnly and said, “Good.  You’re going to be getting a lot of shit from the press and fans alike from now on.  I’m glad you’re so firm in your love for him because the two of you will be tested.  And I know that poor boy would break if you left him.”

            With that, Dalen placed a warm hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “Take care of him.  Otabek is more fragile than he lets people believe.”

            As Dalen turned to walk away, Yuri couldn’t help but stare at his back with his mouth wide open.  He knew he had just passed some kind of test with the older man, but he just wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

 

* * *

 

 

            Several nights later, Yuri and Otabek were cuddling on the couch, cartons of Chinese takeout scattered around the coffee table and some crappy movie playing on Netflix.  Yuri was stabbing at a stubborn piece of pork with his chopsticks, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering to the next day.  His flight back to St. Petersburg was first thing in the morning, and Otabek had been doing his best to keep his mind off of his impending departure.  After many wonderful sessions of sex in various places around the apartment, they had gone on a long ride on Otabek’s bike through the beautiful mountains that surrounded Almaty until the sun finally set, and then stopped to get takeout from Yuri’s favorite Chinese restaurant in Otabek’s neighborhood.

            Now, Yuri was curled up in Otabek’s lap, only half tasting his food while Otabek ran his fingers through golden locks, occasionally stopping to massage Yuri’s scalp a little.  The blonde eventually gave up on his food, putting the carton down on the coffee table and instead wrapping his arms around Otabek’s waist and pretending to watch whatever it was they had turned on.

            “You okay, Yura?” Otabek asked, never stopping the gentle strokes through Yuri’s hair.

            Yuri waited a moment, then sighed. “I just...don’t want to leave tomorrow.  But I’m a distraction and I won’t let you compromise your season for me.”

            Otabek’s hand stopped its ministrations, instead gently grabbing Yuri’s face and turning his head so that they were looking at each other. “Do you serioulsly think you’re a distraction to me?”

            Green eyes narrowed as Yuri nodded. “You know damn well I am.  How can you concentrate on your skating when your mind is on me?  When I’m here, you spend less time at the rink and more time in the bedroom.  You need to focus on the Four Continents and then Worlds.  If I can’t skate this year, you better win gold for me!”

            Otabek sighed but couldn’t hide the small whisper of a laugh that escaped his throat at that.  He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Yuri’s forehead. “Your mind is never not on skating, is it love?”

            Yuri shook his head before leaning up for a chaste peck on the lips. “Only most of the time.  The rest of the time I’m thinking about that magnificent cock of yours.”

            At that, Otabek gave up trying to hold back his laughter.  He collapsed on top of Yuri in a fit of giggles, while the Russian merely smiled and held on tightly to his lover.  Knowing that he’d be going back to St. Petersburg in just twelve short hours, where he would go back to sleeping alone, having nobody but Potya to cuddle on the couch, twisted his stomach in knots.  But they also both knew it was the right thing to do for the time being.

            When the laughter died and the two of them merely lay on the couch in a tangle of limbs, Yuri voiced the question that had been weighing heavily on his mind for several nights now.

            “Hey, Beka?”

            “Hmm?” Otabek sounded like he was half asleep by that point, clinging to Yuri for dear life as he nuzzled into his chest.

            “We’ll still be together after I go home tomorrow, right?”

            The confusion was evident on Otabek’s face as he snapped his head up to look his boyfriend in the eyes.  “Of course!  Why is that even a question?”

            Yuri cast his eyes down, suddenly a little bashful about his insecurities. “Because things have been so perfect for us.  I’m afraid this will upset the balance.”

            Otabek leaned up so that their foreheads were touching and held Yuri’s face so that he could not look away. “Yura, you going back to Russia changes nothing.  I love you and I am not going anywhere, you hear me?  Long distance is going to suck but we’ll make it work.  And Four Continents is less than a month away.  You’ll of course come stay with me and watch me compete, and after Worlds when the season ends, we’ll spend the whole summer together.  By then you’ll be back on the ice, and we’ll both be as gross and sappy as Viktor and Yuuri.”

            _Fuck_ , Yuri was crying once again.  He tried to ignore the tears that slipped from the corners of his eyes, but Otabek was there, kissing the tears away and whispering how much he loved him.  Yuri had no idea what he had done to deserve such a great person, but maybe he should start reconsidering his rather lax religious views if the Universe had somehow decided he and Otabek should be together.

            “Thank you, Beka.  I love you so much.”

            A final kiss as the tears finally dried up. “Come on, let’s clean up in here and then head to bed.  You have an early flight.”

            Yuri nodded his understanding and by the time they fell into Otabek’s large bed, it was no surprise that they once again ended up naked and entangled together.  But instead of the rushed, hot fucking they had been doing nonstop, this time it was slow and sweet.  Each kiss and loving whispering slowly broke Yuri apart, and by the time he came, he was sobbing all over again.  Only this time, it was from the overwhelming swelling in his chest that came from knowing just how much Otabek made him know he was loved.

            As they drifted off to sleep, Yuri’s face buried in Otabek’s hair, all he could think about was how much he wished his grandfather could have been around to see the two of them together, and know that maybe Yuri wasn’t doomed to be alone in this world without Nikolai there with him.

 

* * *

 

 

            Yuri didn’t care how many times they did this, he fucking _hated_ saying goodbye.  He didn’t know how long he stood there, clinging to Otabek like he was his lifeline, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before he heard his flight being called for boarding over the PA system.

            “Yura, you have to go now,” Otabek murmured, but made no move to let go.  
            “I don’t want to,” Yuri hoped Otabek hadn’t noticed the cracking in his voice.  He’d managed to hold it together the entire ride over, he refused to fall apart now.  

            Otabek made no move to let go either, taking in his own shaky breath and burying his nose in Yuri’s hair.  He let out a barely audible sob before pulling back and brushing a stray lock of hair behind Yuri’s ear.

            Yuri took a deep breath and finally pulled away from the embrace.  He refused to let the tears he was holding back fall while they were in public, and instead leaned in for one last kiss before he headed through security.

            When he looked back, Otabek was wiping his face with the back of his hand.  He saw Yuri staring at him and gave him their signature thumbs up, which Yuri returned.  They both mouthed “Davai” to each other before Yuri had to grab his bags and sprint to his gate to avoid missing his flight home.

            To nobody’s surprise, Viktor and Yuuri were waiting at baggage claim when Yuri came down the escalator in Pulkovo Airport.  One look at their friend and Yuuri opened his arms.  Without a single word, Yuri walked into his friend’s embrace and simply stood there, cried out of tears but still exhausted and feeling empty.

            “You okay, Yurio?” Viktor asked from behind Katsuki, placing a comforting hand on Yuri’s head.

            “Yeah, I will be.  I just miss him already,” Yuri sighed.

            “We know,” Katsuki replied, squeezing the younger man around the shoulders.  “Now let’s get you home.  We have a lot of talking to do about your relationship and the press, but you look like you need some sleep.”

            Yuri nodded before following the older couple out to their car.  His phone beeped with an incoming text, and he was glad to see it was from Otabek, making sure he landed safely.

            He replied that he had, and that he already missed Otabek.

            _I know, Yura.  Just remember we are exactly three weeks away from Four Continents.  We’ll see each other again soon.  I love you._

            He couldn’t stop the small smile at that text message.  He was aware of Viktor nudging his husband and gesturing to the rare happy look on Yuri’s face, but he ignored them.

            _Three weeks_ , he inwardly sighed. _I can do this._

            Those words felt like a lie, though.  Now that he’d known what it was like to live with Otabek, he wasn’t sure how he was going to learn to function again without him there all the time.  Three weeks wasn’t a long time inherently, he knew this, but a piece of his part had definitely remained in that airport terminal in Almaty.  He just hoped he’d get it back.

 

 


	8. Four Continents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Four Continents finally arrive, and with it some issues that finally come to light.

           Sometime after returning to St. Petersburg, Yuri found himself at one of his endless follow-up visits with his surgeon.  The receptionists and the nurses all knew him by name at that point, and he had to roll his eyes whenever the nurses would whisper behind their clipboards and giggle while looking at him.  He was suspicious a few of them were members of the Yuri’s Angels, but at least their career choice made them sworn to secrecy of his treatment—he hoped, anyway.

 

As was always the case with doctor’s offices, the surgeon was running behind schedule, so Yuri was sitting on the exam table and playing with his phone, feet swinging as he made a point of ignoring Viktor’s inane rambling.  The old man had for whatever reason insisted on coming with him to the appointment, and Yuri was wishing he’d just stayed home.   

 

        He was nearing the four month mark for his post-op recovery, and was honestly hoping to finally get some good news.  The last several months had been absolute anguish both emotionally and mentally, and there was nothing he wouldn’t give at this point to get back to his old routine.  Hell, even if he could just go back to Lilia’s studio, he’d be ecstatic!  (Words he never thought he would use together in this lifetime).

 

        The doctor finally knocked on the door, barging in before Yuri could even say “I’m ready.”  He spared a look at Viktor before turning to Yuri and going through their usual examination of his mobility and flexion.  He asked the same questions as always, from how Yuri was feeling, to if he was in any pain, or having any difficulties.  Yuri snapped that all would be fine if he would just be allowed to skate again, damn it.

 

        After about fifteen minutes of poking and prodding, the doctor took a seat across from the exam table Yuri was occupying. “Well, looks like you’re on the right track here, Mr. Plisetsky.  The knee seems to be healing well.”

 

        Yuri scowled. “No shit.  When can I get back on the ice?”

 

        The doctor laughed at that, used to having this same question shot at him every time Yuri was in his office.  “Well the good news is that now that you’re three months post-op, you are good to start doing some very light exercise again.  You can start with some open-chain exercises in your physical therapy, but you should be able to start jogging short distances, jumping, and squatting again.”

 

        The silence that followed had the doctor a little nervous.  He’d been working with Yuri long enough to know that silence was never a good sign with him, but thankfully Viktor was the one to break the silence. “Yurio?  Did you hear what he just said?”

 

        Green eyes blinked, as if Yuri was coming out of a trance. “Wait, you’re serious?  I can finally start doing something besides wasting away like a rotting potato?”

 

        The doctor let out a chuckle at that. “That’s one way of putting it but yes, you are good to start doing some very light exercise again.”

 

        Much to everyone’s surprise, Yuri let out a yelp that could only be described as sounding of happiness.  Viktor noticed the tears pooling at the corners of the younger man’s eyes, but said nothing as he let Yuri compose himself.  It was the first good news the poor boy had received in months and he couldn’t blame him for reacting so emotionally one bit.

 

        The first thing Yuri did as soon as he was back in his apartment was to change into his workout clothes and go for a jog around his neighborhood.  It was amazing to him how something that was so routine just months ago was suddenly such a relief.  He felt like the smallest piece of himself was slowly finding its way back, but at the same time it was also the largest relief he had felt in months.  It took everything in him not to stop in the middle of the sidewalk and burst into tears right then and there.

 

        When he finally returned to his apartment, red-faced and sweating, he swore he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this happy.  The second he walked through the door, he pulled out his phone and FaceTimed Otabek.

 

        “Yura?” Otabek answered on the second ring. “Is everything okay?  It’s barely 10 AM there--”

 

        “BEKA!” Yuri was screaming, not caring that he had cut his boyfriend off. “I went for a run!”

 

        Silence followed for a minute before Otabek responded, “With your doctor’s permission, I hope?”

 

        Yuri didn’t even stop himself from rolling his eyes on the camera, but he couldn’t contain his grin. “Yes, Beka.  That’s the point!  I’ve been cleared to do some light exercise again!”

 

        Otabek finally caught on to the rare joy that was emanating from Yuri’s body.  He couldn’t remember a time he’d seen his Ice Tiger so excited, and the feeling was certainly contagious because next thing he knew, he was giving a rare grin to his boyfriend, feeding off of that excited energy.

 

        “That’s fantastic!  It means you’re one step closer to getting back on the ice!”

 

        “Yeah, yeah it does,” Yuri was suddenly trying really hard not to cry.  He was so tired of crying at this point, especially in front of Otabek.

 

        They spent the next twenty minutes or so just discussing various unimportant aspects of their lives, when Otabek finally brought up a question Yuri had been waiting for.

 

        “So...have you booked your flight yet for Four Continents?” Otabek sounded sheepish, like he was afraid that Yuri would tell him no, and that he wasn’t going to be coming after all of this.

 

        Yuri rolled his eyes again, pushing his sweaty hair from his face.  “Not yet.  But don’t sound like such a kicked puppy.  I wouldn’t bail on you.”

 

        Otabek looked relieved at the news. “Good, because I really don’t know what it will be like to go through this without you next year after you get back to the ice.”

 

        “Sap,” Yuri laughed. “You’ve always done it without me.  This is the first year I’ll be there with you.”

 

        The laugh Otabek let out at that comment filled Yuri’s stomach with butterflies for some reason. “Whatever.  I miss you.”   
  


        Yuri couldn’t help a bittersweet smile at that. “I miss you too, Beka.  So fucking much.”

 

        With that, the conversation wrapped up while Yuri pulled up plane ticket costs on his phone, making plans with Otabek for the Four Continents.  It was still about three weeks out, but Yuri was so excited that he didn’t think he’d be able to contain the buzzing that was going through every fiber of his being.  By the time he and Otabek had said their goodbyes, he decided to do some light strength training to burn the excess energy.

 

* * *

 

        Once dinner rolled around, Yuri had booked his flights and informed Viktor and Yuuri that he’d be going to the Four Continents to support Otabek.  He was surprised when Viktor expressed some concerns rather than be encouraging.  Now that he had been cleared for some light exercise, Viktor insisted that it would be in his best interest to start back into some form of a training regimen.

 

        “Oh for fuck’s sake, old man.   I can keep training up until I leave and start again right after.  Don’t pretend like you haven’t done the same thing for your piggy!”

 

        “Yurio,” Viktor’s voice was steady, but Yuri knew him well enough to recognize the barely concealed frustration. “Do you want to be ready to compete at the GPF next year?  Or are you not taking this seriously anymore?”

 

        Yuri snarled, suddenly reminded of the conversation he’d had with Dalen about Otabek throwing away his chances at gold for a piece of ass.  Before he could stop himself, he was screaming, “Go fuck yourself, Viktor!  I’m over your high-and-mighty bullshit!” and stormed off, leaving his coach ready to punch a hole through the wall while his husband tried to talk him down.

 

        Finding himself in the locker room, Yuri threw himself down on one of the benches and put his head in his hands, taking deep, steadying breaths.  

 

        “Yurio?  Can I come in?”

 

        He didn’t have to look up to know that Katsudon was standing in the doorway, probably awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt until he got an answer.  A shrug was the best he could offer at the moment, and Yuuri must have taken that as an invitation because he sat down on the bench next to Yuri before he had a chance to think if he even wanted to talk to him right now.

 

       “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Viktor is just worried.  You lost so much time with your surgery and recovery that he doesn’t think you can afford to take any more time off if you want a chance at gold next season,” Yuuri’s voice was soothing, almost like the tone Yuri had used when trying to talk him down from a panic attack.

 

        Yuuri paused a moment, probably waiting for Yuri to say something.  When all he got was more silence, he sighed and continued on, “Look, you’re an adult and we can’t do anything to stop you from going.  We know you miss him and just want to see him.  So, for what it’s worth, I have no problem with you going so long as you promise to keep up with the training regimen Viktor has you on.”

 

        At that, Yuri looked up.  He could see a somewhat defeated smile on Katsudon’s face, and while part of him thought maybe he should heed his coaches’ warnings about taking more time off, the large stubborn part of him was saying  _ who fucking cares?  You’re doing this so you can see Otabek. _

 

        And that part right there scared him.  Never in his life had he ever so much as considered putting something else before his skating career.  If he lost that drive, then he could kiss his gold medal goodbye.  What was worse, the words from Otabek’s coach that haunted him were just being proved right by this thought, and that made Yuri want to scream and cry all at once.

 

        “Thanks, Katsudon.  I was going to go anyway, but it helps knowing you’re not totally against the idea,” Yuri mumbled.

 

        Yuuri threw a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulder at that.  “Anytime.  Now, do you want to grab dinner with Vitya and me?”

 

        Yuri rolled his eyes but agreed.

 

* * *

 

        Some weeks later found Yuri standing in the hotel for the Four Continents.  The competition was happening in Madison Square Garden that year, so somehow the official hotel had ended up being a cool, old building near Midtown, and as much as Yuri always swore he hated America and cities like New York, he admitted to seeing some of the charm to the place.

 

        Otabek wasn’t due in for a few more hours, so once he had deposited his bags in the room, he decided he could stand to stretch his legs and go for a run around the neighborhood.  He had been following a strict regimen from his physical therapist and Viktor since the morning he was cleared for light exercise again, and was slowly building back up the strength in the muscles that had somewhat atrophied after several months without use.  By now, running was back to his almost pre-injury level of distance, although his stamina and time were still shit.

 

        He ended up taking a leisurely jog that lasted about eight kilometers, although he made a disgusted face at his phone when he noted the length of time it had taken him to run that distance.  It was one thing to know theoretically that it takes time to get into shape, and another thing entirely to realize just how out of shape he had gotten during his recovery.  There was no end to the comparisons he was making of himself to his pre-injury physical condition, and although he knew he was just going to end up driving himself crazy, Yuri couldn’t stop.

 

        While he was glaring at his phone and grumbling incoherent swears in Russian to himself, Yuri failed to see someone coming the opposite direction as he was walking across the hotel lobby back to the elevators.  He was shocked to find himself colliding with someone and when he looked up to snap at the person to look where they’re fucking going (even though he knew it was his fault, but he would never admit that), the even bigger shock came when he realized who he had run into.

 

        “JJ,” Yuri snarled. “Figures I can’t escape you and your maple syrup-loving ass.”

 

        “Yuri,” JJ acknowledged, but his tone lacked its usual taunting lilt.  

 

        Part of Yuri wondered if something was wrong with JJ, while another part reminded him how often this asshole had made fun of him, called him ‘princess’, and questioned his masculinity in public settings, so Yuri decided to choose the path of ‘not giving a damn.’   And with that, he waved JJ off and stormed past him towards the elevators.

 

        Once Yuri had showered and gotten dressed, he noticed a missed text message on his phone.  He was disappointed to see that it was from Otabek, saying that his connecting flight had been delayed a couple of hours and so he would be getting in fairly late and not to wait up for him.  He typed out a quick,  _ See you when you get here.  Safe travels.  Love you. _

 

        With a groan, Yuri realized he was going to have to find a way to kill a lot of time before Otabek would arrive.  He wasn’t fond of anybody else who was competing in the Four Continents, so he didn’t particularly want to see what they were all up to.  Without many other options, Yuri opted to go hang out in the restaurant attached to the hotel and see what would happen.

 

        He was able to get a table near the bar and immediately grabbed the drinks menu.  He figured if he was going to have to wait a little longer for Otabek, then he may as well get a little tipsy first.  Just as he gave the waitress his order for a vodka soda, he was shocked when someone sat down in the chair across from him.  JJ had decided to take a seat at Yuri’s table without an invitation, and this infuriated the younger man for some reason.

 

        “What the fuck do you want, JJ?  I just want to have a couple of drinks and wait for Otabek to get here.”

 

        JJ shrugged, seemingly unphased by Yuri’s typical rudeness. “You’re the only person in here I know and it makes me feel less pathetic than drinking alone.”

 

        Yuri rolled his eyes at that. “Whatever.  Can’t you make your fiance come sit with you?”

 

        He was met with a heavy silence at that, and Yuri immediately had the feeling that he’d put his foot in his mouth.  When he braved a glance in JJ’s direction, he was horrified to see tears silently streaming from those blue eyes.  Immediately, Yuri’s mind went into panic mode, completely unequipped for handling emotional people, particularly an emotional person that he didn’t even consider a friend.

 

        “About that,” JJ choked, just failing from keeping the warble in his voice, “Bella left me.”

 

        “Oh,” Yuri said dumbly, completely frozen and unsure of how to react.

 

        Thankfully, the waitress came back just then with his drink, and he asked her to bring him another one immediately.  When she gave him a questioning look, he tipped the glass up and downed the contents in a single go, handing her back the empty glass and saying, “Another, please.  And bring me a shot of tequila while you’re at it.”

 

        She left, clearly wondering if she should say something about the crying man and the one who just guzzled a vodka soda like it was water, but thankfully seemed to decide to just mind her own business and came back with the second round of drinks Yuri had asked for.

 

        JJ automatically reached for the tequila shot but Yuri grabbed it and threw it back, foregoing the salt and lime in favor of getting the liquor into his system as quickly as possible. “If I’m going to listen to this, let me get drunk enough to forget I hate you first.”

 

        The Canadian winced at that last comment but nodded his agreement.

 

        Once Yuri was halfway through the second vodka soda, he took a breath and simply said, “Spill.”

 

        And so JJ spilled.  While he told Yuri how Isabella had finally decided she couldn’t take the dragging out of their engagement anymore, she’d given JJ an ultimatum right after the Grand Prix Final.  She said that he could forget about the grand slam and marry her right there, or she would end it.  JJ had stupidly argued that he could  _ still _ win the grand slam next year, to just give him one more chance, but she wasn’t having it.

 

        The Canadian now found himself single for the first time since he was sixteen.  Isabella had been such a huge part of his life for the last 8 years that he was heartbroken and lost without her.  Yuri had no problem with the idea of grown men crying, but when it was his sworn enemy sobbing about getting dumped in such a public setting, Yuri..really had no idea what to do with the whole situation.  So he just kept drinking and hoped that the alcohol would make it more bearable. 

 

        “God, I really fucked up, Plisetsky,” JJ had finally stopped crying, but his voice was hoarse and it sounded like he had just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.

 

        “Look, I really have no idea what you want me to say or do here,” Yuri griped. “You know I’m shit with most people, you especially, so why the fuck did you come to me about this?”   
  


        JJ looked legitimately hurt by that statement. “Because I always thought you were my friend in some weird, kind of fucked up way.”

 

        “Oh,” Yuri was so shocked that he had no idea how to respond, so instead he just stared into his drink, mind going a million miles an hour as he tried to determine the best way to handle the situation.

 

        Eventually, Yuri ordered actual food for the two of them, figuring they should have something on their stomachs to absorb all of the alcohol that they had consumed.  JJ stopped sobbing at some point and was able to eat a cheeseburger and some fries.  Yuri wasn’t sure if he should point out eating that the night before a competition was probably a bad idea, but decided it wasn’t any of his fucking business, especially since they were already drunk anyway.  So instead he just picked at his grilled chicken wrap while sipping on the unknown number of drink he was on.

 

        “Hey Yuri, can I tell you something?” JJ finally broke the awkward silence that had fallen over them.

 

        Yuri eyed the older man warily over the rim of his glass, but nodded. “Sure.”

 

        “I’m really happy you and Beks are together,” JJ was actually smiling now, almost as if the past half an hour of sobbing hadn’t happened. “I remember when we trained together in Toronto, he was always pining for the cute blonde kid he’d met at ballet camp.  Never thought he’d work up the balls to talk to you again, let alone ask you out.”

 

        “Thanks, I think,” Yuri replied, legitimately unsure of how to respond to this.  He was bad enough in normal social situations, but the awkwardness of the whole night was just making things worse and worse.

 

        “Seriously.  You two are really good for each other.  It’s obvious how in love you are and you support each other in a way that rarely happens.  I mean shit, Otabek dropped everything to go stay with you when you got hurt, and I know you’d do the same for him.”

 

        The Russian paused at this information, taking it all in.  He realized it was true, and couldn’t help the stupid grin that broke out on his face from that. “Yeah, you’re right.  Beka is pretty amazing.”

 

        And with that, they fell into a slightly more comfortable conversation.  Yuri was shocked that alcohol or no, he was starting to warm up a bit to the obnoxious Canadian.  He wouldn’t go so far as to say that he actually liked JJ, but he definitely hated him a little less than he thought he did at the beginning of the night.  It was almost like he had a friend outside of his rink mates and Otabek.

 

        They must have spent more time in the hotel restaurant than they had thought, because Otabek appeared out of nowhere and placed a kiss to Yuri’s temple while also reaching forward and to steal the remainder of the fries from JJ’s plate.  JJ squawked some kind of protest, but Otabek brushed him off and sat down in the seat next to Yuri, mumbling something about carb-loading while he draped his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

 

        “I’m surprised to find the two of you eating dinner together,” Otabek stated by way of greeting.

 

        Yuri lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug while JJ blurted out “Yuri and I are friends now!  He listened to me whine and bought me food!”

 

        Otabek raised an eyebrow and laughed at that. “Really now?  Glad to hear you two are finally getting along.”

 

        It was Yuri’s turn to protest, but by then the three of them had simply devolved into a fit of laughter.  By the time they paid the check and made it back to the elevators, Yuri was shocked to realize that he had actually had a good time, at least once they had gotten past the awkward part of JJ spilling his guts about the death of his love life.  He and Otabek made sure the Canadian was safely deposited in his hotel room with an alarm set for the following morning, and a note wishing him good luck with everything.  

 

        Once they were finally back in their shared room, it almost took Yuri a minute to register that they were alone together for the first time in weeks.  But all of that didn’t matter because next thing he knew, Otabek’s lips were pressing into his, and the two of them began to make their way backwards towards the bed.  They knew they couldn’t have penetrative sex before a competition, not wanting to risk Otabek’s form in any way, so instead they settled for a heated makeout session that ended with each of them taking turns sucking each other off.

 

        After Otabek had made Yuri come for the second time that night, the two collapsed together on the bed, soaking in the post coital bliss while they cuddled and babbled about how much they had missed each other.  As Yuri buried himself in Otabek’s arms, he was surprised at how much more content he felt just having Otabek near him again.  It was funny how they had only been dating for about a month at that point, and yet he was having a hard time remembering what his life was like before they had gotten together.  Then again, their friendship had never been just a friendship, so he supposed in a way they had actually been together for several years already.

 

        “Yura?” Otabek mumbled sleepily into the mess of blonde hair in his mouth.

 

        “Yes?” Yuri didn’t look up from his spot on Otabek’s chest, merely traced invisible circles on his skin with his fingers.

 

        “I’m glad you and JJ are getting along.”

 

        Yuri lifted his head and shot Otabek a confused look at that.  “Seriously?  We’re cuddling in bed,  _ naked _ , and you’re talking about that asshole?”

 

        Otabek rolled his eyes and bopped Yuri on the nose at that with the back of his finger. “He’s not an asshole.  Just misunderstood.  And he’s my friend so the point is that it means a lot to me that my boyfriend and friend are getting along.”

 

        The sigh Yuri released at that was long-suffering, but he let it go.  “Whatever.  Let’s get some sleep so you’re not too tired for your short program tomorrow.”  
  
He felt the rumble of Otabek’s chest as he chuckled at that.  “Okay.  Love you, Yura.”

 

        “Love you too,” Yuri sighed and melted against Otabek’s chest, reveling in the feel of his boyfriend’s lips against his forehead while he drifted off into the most peaceful sleep he’d had since Almaty.

 

* * *

 

        The next day found them in the rink, Yuri standing anxiously on the sidelines while he watched Otabek warm up for his short program.  Dalen was of course there, and when the two of them made eye contact, Yuri made a point to narrow his eyes in a threatening way.  The coach was completely unphased, but Yuri didn’t care.  He no longer trusted him after that conversation they’d shared in Almaty, and part of him wanted to stop Otabek from continuing to train with him.

 

        As they watched the other skaters go, Yuri was loathe to admit that he felt such a strong pang of jealousy.  Although he was finally on the road to recovery, he still missed the ice more than anything.  It was slowly killing him to watch everyone he knew--Seung-gil, JJ, Leo, Guang Hong, Kenjirou--compete without him.  He bitterly wondered if this was what retirement would eventually feel like.  And if that was the case, he never wanted to retire.

 

        When the group was called to the rink for their routines, Yuri stood by Otabek, a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s lower back.  Despite his calm exterior, Yuri knew Otabek could still get nervous before competitions, so he did his best to give him support without also drawing attention to it.

 

        Otabek was the second to last to go in his group, so when his name was finally called, he turned to Yuri and placed a quick peck on his lips.  They each whispered “Davai,” to each other as Otabek took the ice and entered his opening pose.  Yuri didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until he felt a sharp jab to his ribs.  Turning towards the direction the elbow had come from, he saw JJ standing there, his blue eyes narrowed in concern as he redirected both of their gazes towards Otabek.

 

        As usual, he was flawless.  Yuri couldn’t help but envy how much height Otabek was always able to get on his jumps in a way even he had never quite managed to master.  Otabek was skating very much like the way he DJ’d--like the ice was a melody he was forming and playing, all fluid beauty and grace.  And when he landed the last jump perfectly, followed by a gorgeous spin before he stopped in his final pose, Yuri wasn’t surprised to feel the wetness on his cheeks.  Otabek Altin had literally moved Yuri Plisetsky, the Ice Tiger of Russia, to tears with his performance, and the cameras didn’t miss it.

 

        Yuri was waiting for Otabek at the kiss and cry along with his coach and choreographer.  Once Otabek had his skate guards on, he grabbed Yuri’s hand and the couple sat down together to wait his scores.

 

        Dalen was of course lecturing him on what he did wrong and where he could do better, but Otabek wasn’t paying any attention.  Yuri could tell that Otabek’s heart was in his throat while they awaited the scores, so he silently squeezed his boyfriend’s hand in support, hoping it would be enough.  He knew Otabek had just given the best performance of his life, but they wouldn’t know for sure until the scores were displayed.

 

        And when the numbers came on, Yuri looked over to see Otabek stunned into complete silence.  Although it just reconfirmed was everyone already knew, Yuri couldn’t be any prouder.  He threw his arms around his boyfriend and cried, “Beka!  Say something!  You just scored a personal best!”

 

        For a second, Yuri was worried something was wrong because he could see all the miniscule muscle movements within Otabek’s eyes.  But it was suddenly like something had flipped a switch because Otabek was now aware of himself just as suddenly as he’d withdrawn.

 

        Without a word, without so much as a confirmation that this was a good idea or not, Otabek grabbed Yuri pulled him into a kiss, right there on international television.

 

        This time, the crowd was roaring, but for an entirely different reason.  Yuri supposed that the nice thing about their relationship being out now was that they didn’t have to worry so much about things like this.  They were dating, and everyone knew it, so Yuri melted and returned the kiss, as if to show the world that Otabek Altin was  _ his _ .

 

       “Yura,” Now Otabek was the one crying.  

  
  
       “You’re fucking amazing, Otabek Altin,” Yuri grinned, bumping their foreheads together.

 

        The press and cameras went wild but they didn’t care.  The couple was too damn happy to care about anything else than the fact Otabek Altin had just done the best program of his skating career, despite what Dalen had said to Yuri.

 

* * *

 

        The rest of the competition went by fairly uneventfully.  Otabek had a slight stumble on the landing of one of his combination jumps, but the deduction hadn’t been enough to knock him out of first place.  He had walked away with a gold medal, securing his spot at Worlds the following month, and Yuri could tell how happy Otabek was with his overall performance.

 

        The banquet that followed was surprisingly tame, although Yuri suspected it might have something to do with the fact that Katsudon, Viktor, and Christophe had long retired, and so no more drunken pole dancing contests had happened at one of these things in the last few years.  JJ had put on a good front, gone around with a big smile on his face and politely dodged any questions potential sponsors had about “that nice fiance of his.”  Yuri felt bad for him, but was glad he was holding it together--he figured the silver medal might have helped somewhat with that.  It made him feel a little better to notice that Mr. and Mrs. Leroy were nearby and checking on their son every so often.  Even Yuri had to bitterly admit that he wished he had ever had parents that cared about him even half as much as the Leroys did their son.

 

        At some point Otabek had wandered off to talk with a sponsor, leaving Yuri to quietly sip on his wine alone at a table.  For some reason, Dalen took this as an opportunity to sit at the seat Otabek had vacated barely five minutes before.  Yuri pointedly ignore him, pulling out his phone and making a show of scrolling social media while he drank silently.

 

        “Plisetsky,” Yuri couldn’t tell if that was Dalen’s pathetic attempt at a greeting, or if he was trying to get his attention.  Either way, Yuri decided not to answer his boyfriend’s coach.

 

        “Yuri,” Dalen repeated, a little more firm this time.

 

        At that, Yuri had to roll his eyes as he politely locked his phone and turned it over so that the screen was facing down on the table.  Dalen’s gruff warning had reminded Yuri a touch of all the years Yakov had used a similar tone with him.  

 

        “Yes?” Yuri said, keeping his answers as curt as possible.

 

        “I’m glad you came here for Otabek,” Dalen’s answer sounded sincere, but Yuri didn’t miss the sneer in his tone.

 

        Yuri clenched his fist and literally bit down on his tongue to keep himself from saying anything he’d regret in such a public setting.  He wasn’t stupid, he knew Dalen was trying to bait him in order to make his point about Yuri being a distraction, but he wasn’t biting.  When it came to his and Otabek’s relationship, Yuri had more self control than a Buddhist Monk.  Usually.  Okay, Yuri Plisetsky never had any self-control.  And so in this situation, Yuri couldn’t help but let slip just a single snide remark of his own.

 

        “Funny how I’m such a distraction, yet Otabek still won gold.”

 

        Thankfully, Yuri didn’t have to wait to hear what Dalen was going to say because that was when Otabek returned to the table to say that he was tired and heading to bed.  He and Yuri bid everyone goodnight, including making JJ promise to call when he landed in Toronto the next day, and headed back up to their room.

 

* * *

 

        Several hours later found Yuri and Otabek lying in a naked, sweaty mess of limbs in their hotel bed.  The two had barely locked the door behind them before they had fallen into bed, clothes flying and frantically pawing at each other.  The last several days together without being allowed to have sex had be trying for both of them, and now that the competition was over, Otabek was happy to bend Yuri over the nearest surface and fuck him raw, and then have Yuri return the favor.

 

        Sated, sore, and exhausted, Yuri was just drifting off to sleep, all but purring under Otabek’s touch as he gently ran his fingers through the blonde hair splayed out on his chest, when Otabek suddenly asked him, “How would you feel about spending the rest of the season in Almaty with me?”

 

        Yuri binked, not sure if he had just dreamed that or not in his twilight state.  Raising his head to meet Otabek’s eyes, the steady look he was met with told him that no, it was real.  

 

        His heart was suddenly feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest.  The idea that they could be together for more than a short period of time, maybe even move in together and end the long-distance part of their relationship--it was overwhelming.  Yuri sat up, trying not to let any stray tears fall, but Otabek wordlessly leaned forward and kissed the tears away.

 

        “Yura?  Are you okay?”

 

        Yuri nodded, not quite sure he could trust his voice yet.

 

        Otabek raised a questioning eyebrow, not convinced at all.

 

        Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Yuri finally spoke. “Beka, more than anything I want to do that--”   
  


        Otabek sighed, cutting Yuri off before he could even finish.  “There’s a ‘but’ in there, isn’t there?”

 

        “I--yeah,” Yuri paused, wondering if he should tell Otabek what he was about to say.

 

        “Well?” Otabek sounded apprehensive, like maybe he was afraid Yuri was going to end it.

 

        The idea of course broke Yuri’s heart, so he decided to squash that as firmly as possible.

 

        “Otabek, I--look I hate that I’ve been hiding something from you for a bit now, and I think you have the right to hear it,” Yuri really hoped this didn’t sound as much like a breakup as he thought it did.

 

        “Last time I was in Almaty, right before I came home, Dalen pulled me aside to talk to me.” He paused, watching Otabek for his reaction.  When he nodded, Yuri continued.

 

        “He tried to get me to break up with you.  Thinks I’m a distraction and going to ruin your chance at gold for Worlds.  Of course I told him to fuck off, but he’s been a real asshole about it ever since.”

 

        The silence he was met with was deafening.  Yuri chanced a glance in Otabek’s direction, only to see that his boyfriend was  _ livid _ , which was not an expression he had ever seen on Otabek.  It honestly scared him a little.

 

        “Beka?” Yuri whispered, approaching him like a frightened horse that was about to spook. “Beka, hey.  Don’t worry about it.  I’ve dealt with plenty of assholes in my life.”   
  


        “Yuri, he was trying to meddle with  _ my _ life!  Without even talking to me about it!  I can’t believe he doesn’t trust me to make my own decisions about relationships, doesn’t believe in me enough to keep professional--” Otabek’s nostrils were flaring, and he was clearly struggling not to start yelling.

 

        Unsure of what to do, Yuri merely crawled forward until his arms were wrapped around Otabek’s shoulders, trying to soothe him with calming hand motions on his back.  He felt like there was something more to this than just Dalen being a dick for no reason, but he let it go for now.  

 

        “Beka, it’s okay.  Everything is okay.  Today proved that our relationship is the opposite of a distraction--it’s an inspiration.  Dalen can suck my dick because he will never be able to take that away from us.”

 

        Otabek let out a weird half-laugh,half groan at that. “The image of my coach blowing my boyfriend is not one I needed.”

 

        They both laughed at that.  Eventually, Yuri felt Otabek’s muscles relax under his touch, and so he then coaxed the other man to lie back down under the covers with him.  He even offered that Otabek come to St. Petersburg instead after Worlds, and train under Viktor and Yuuri.  Dalen was quickly proving that he didn’t know his star student very well, and Otabek deserved so much more than that.     


  
        Otabek surprisingly agreed, saying Viktor and Yuuri had been great to work with while he stayed in St. Petersburg and how much he had improved in such a short period of time with them.  He was dreading the idea of talking to Dalen about it, but Yuri shushed him and said they could deal with it at a later time.

 

        After that, Otabek was the first one to fall asleep for once, and Yuri took the opportunity to take a quick photo to make his phone background--nothing for social media, just a private thing for him to remember this moment when he was back in Russia and missing the warmth of Otabek sleeping beside him.  He then put the phone down and placed a gentle kiss to the crown of Otabek’s head, whispering, “I fucking love you, Otabek Altin,” before drifting off into a deep sleep, dreaming of ice skates, gold medals, and the love of his life at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, hi, wow, I am SO SORRY this took for-fucking-ever to get updated. I've been swamped by real life, zines, and other projects that I haven't been able to post, so I was really sad to realize the last time I posted anything on AO3 was in September. YIKES.
> 
> And I apologize if this chapter isn't very good--it's been so long since I last wrote for this that I'm worried I've lost the flow and tone of everything...
> 
> Anyway, hard to believe we only have one more chapter and then an epilogue after this! This story has been my baby for so long now that I don't know what I'm going to do when I finish it. 
> 
> As always, come join me in the fun on Tumblr! (theinsanefox . tumblr . com) or Twitter (@FoxyLovesFandom)


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